I was quiet. I was able to be quiet. My sister more than made up for my absence of audible response to every situation. . .
The strange woman at my door holds a knife and a fork. Her cutlery is sharp. She smells of raw oysters. A bag hangs over her shoulders . . .
Jack had been living the good life for a long while but still hadn’t made it out of the day to day dealings his position demanded of him . . .
Featured: Black Interest
- Bronx Biannual Issue No. 2: The Literary Journal of Urbane Urban Literature
- Sale The Bernice L. McFadden Collection
- All or Nothing
- Frederick Douglass in Brooklyn
- The Angels’ Share
- Getting It Right
- Black Orchid Blues
- The Roving Tree
- Sale Amiri Baraka 3-for-1 Sale!
- The Spring Thrills Digit
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