GERRY DREAMS THE OCEAN
Gerry was at the beach late, just before 10. He’d left the house an hour before, unable to sleep. The fog at this time of year was still
thick, the air raw. He strode along the sand, ignoring the waves sucking at his sneakers. There was no one else around.
He’d grown up here, only minutes from the ocean. At first it was a comfort, to be in a place where there were so many Filipinos — so many people like him — around. Later, he
stumbled across a blog describing Daly City as the armpit of San Francisco. Nothing ironic, trendy, or hip about it. In almost 20 years, it had not changed.
Gerry thought of his sister, Melissa. She was living in Manila with their grandmother. His sister was 11. Their grandmother spoiled her, ordering the cook to prepare whatever his siste
