Invisible Man

Invisible Man

“Come in,” I said. The door opened slowly. A group of youth members crowded forward, their faces a question. The girls were crying. “Is it true?” they said. “That he is dead? Yes,” I said, looking among them. “Yes.”...
Invisible Man

Invisible Man

I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids – and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible,...
The Furious Passage of James Baldwin

The Furious Passage of James Baldwin

He was about ten, and puny for his age, when two Harlem patrolmen stopped him in an empty lot. Smug in their bias, snug in it, they amused themselves with speculation on his ancestry and probably sexual prowess while they frisked him. They him flat on his back....