“The Aftermath” by Christopher Fraser
“I’m sorry.” It was a simple statement, filled with honesty and sadness, but truth was evident in the man’s voice . . .
“I’m sorry.” It was a simple statement, filled with honesty and sadness, but truth was evident in the man’s voice . . .
It used to be so. Playing dead to catch Corbeau alive. Every day started with the Our Father.
I held a glass of champagne in my hand and stood alone under the dark night sky. . .
Just as Steadroy finish mek up he bed under de Big Head, smadee call he name . . .
Eddie had always been a quiet man. Living on the outskirts of the village meant he was always met with a curious but hesitant eye. The village children were always warned to stay away from him . . .
Tina knew she shouldn’t have gone to that party with Robert . . .
We all sneezed. Or maybe I just sneezed, but we all looked away at exactly the same time and, at exactly the same time, looked back . . .
The airport was abuzz with travelers. After a year of performing for audiences who shouted “yes” to their Haitian music, Pappyon, Neg Mawan, Yatande and Zilibo—known as The Haitian Cats—were going on vacation . . .