The Trees
Granny C always looked a little sad. And why not? Wheat was her son. Charlene hated the woman nearly as much as she hated Wheat, but never showed it; she was an old woman, and in the South you respect your elders. Her four grandchildren, three years to ten, looked...
The Sellout
“White babes don’t do nothing for me. You know that.” “Bullshit, your fucking hard-on woke me up.” “Aversion therapy.” “What’s that?” I balked at telling her about my father locking my head into the tachistoscope and for three hours flashing split-second images of the...
We Measure The Earth With Our Bodies
Ama was an oracle. The realization came to my mother late in life, when her monthly bleedings stopped and something else opened inside. Some in our village called it an affliction. They said there was a crack in her mind that left her open to spirits who would consume...
Erasure
“Where you think you goin’,” Lois bark at her. Penelope laugh it off just as cool as shit. “I’m going to have young Mister—.” She stop and look at me. “What’s your name?” “Van Go.” “That’s right,” she say. “I’m going to have Van here drive me down the hill for a...