Some of her patients had parenting problems more than they had medical problems, but Dr. Simian didn’t say that out loud as she took Mrs. Monkey’s call . . .
We pulled into our parking space at 9:38am. Yes, we were technically eight minutes late. But I’d managed to dress and feed four hungry tiny people, wrestle them into car seats, and drive here. Eight minutes late was a win.
Featured: Black Interest
- Prospero’s Daughter
- New Worlds, Old Ways: Speculative Tales from the Caribbean
- Not for Everyday Use
- The Roving Tree
- Kingston Noir (Jamaica)
- New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set (Nne)
- Bandits & Bibles: Convict Literature in Nineteenth-Century America
- Among the Bloodpeople: Politics & Flesh
- Confessions of a Ex-Doofus-ItchyFooted Mutha