I lie on his couch. It’s my spot now. I’ve spent whole days lying here. The cushions remember the arch of my back and the angles of my arms and legs, so it’s easy to find my place again when I move. He sits at his desk—next to the couch, in front of a laptop—and waits for his phone to ring. He is a businessman. His business is crack. He is always on call . . .
Tag: We lived on the edge of reality. Some nights we were happy.
Featured: Black Interest
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- Among the Bloodpeople: Politics & Flesh
- Frederick Douglass in Brooklyn
- A History of the African-American People (Proposed) by Strom Thurmond, as told to Percival Everett & James Kincaid (A Novel)
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- Addis Ababa Noir (Ethiopia)
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