From "Brain Trust"

Mrs. Bang Hue Ngyuen threw a handful of millet over the water; the chickens splashed and squabbled. They formed a pattern of white and brown, feathers and water droplets – like a skull, the sinking circles of eyes between them. Bang froze.

Her brother, Lam, dropped his dishtowel and pressed against the sink, as though he could dive through the aluminum bars of the kitchen window and catch her. Bang fell gracefully, like a shot crane, chest first into the shallow mud. The chickens fluttered a few feet away and resumed their bickering at the base of the family’s two banana trees. They fluttered again at the slam of the kitchen door.

From “Keep Talking”

Gerald’s stomach clenched as he approached his daughter, Sarah. She sat at her computer, her back to the world, as intent as a cat scenting a mouse. “Sweetie, I have some big news.”

She sucked on a lock of her hair, eyes on the screen. He leaned against the desk, as much into her line of sight as he could. “Sarah? I got the job.”

“Live feed,” Sarah said, angrily, and leaned closer to her screen.

On her screen, a half-dozen text windows showed the usual columns of numbers, her obsession: the daily data streams and reports from SETI, the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. She’d always been so good at math, but when time came to take the SAT’s, she’d just said, “The problems all have answers,” and left her sheet blank.