The soil smells sweet—rich and earthy with a faint whiff of sulfur from a geyser somewhere in the vicinity.
The walls divide more than inside and out: they run a sharp line between needs and wants.
“Can you use me?” My hands keep shaking.
Saw Dr. Vaughn Romo yesterday. My second consult. We discussed the various options again. The consult was free this time, but not of arrogance . . .
Dr. Stacey Roman watched as Roy, Chief Militia for Apex building, put down the copy of Fire Next Time he had been reading to reluctantly unlock the door for her.
Time marches on! What a ridiculous cliché. If I had a minute for every time I’ve heard it, I’d . . . well, don’t get me started.
Featured: Black Interest
- You Can Keep That to Yourself: A Comprehensive List of What Not to Say to Black People, for Well-Intentioned People of Pallor
- Every Boy Should Have a Man
- Dog War
- The Roving Tree
- I Love You Too
- A Tall History of Sugar
- John Crow’s Devil
- The Family Mansion
- Lagos Noir (Nigeria)
- The Necessary Hunger
- Black Orchid Blues
- All or Nothing