I felt like God, even though I must’ve been the palest lady on Vía Argentina. I was one lone gringita standing outside a bar full of red lights and Don Omar music, watching people use the tens and twenties tucked in their fingers for cab fare or a bottle of rum to mix with Coca-Cola. I was just a dirt-broke chick who sprinted out of the States like a scalded rat, hoping I’d never see certain people again . . .
Featured: Black Interest
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- Iron Balloons: Hit Fiction From Jamaica’s Calabash Writer’s Workshop
- Bronx Biannual: The Literary Journal of Urbane Urban Literature
- The Half That’s Never Been Told: The Real-Life Reggae Adventures of Doctor Dread
- Accra Noir (Ghana)
- Song for Night
- Caught Up
- The Accidental Hunter
- The Duppy
- What Is Hip-Hop?
- Sale The Bernice L. McFadden Collection
- The Book of Harlan