Dolen Perkins-Valdez delivers another striking work of historical fiction with Happy Land, shining a light on a remarkable chapter of American history that has long remained in the shadows.
Photo Credit: D. Lamont At the Crossroads of History: Fiction, Memory, and the Power of Reclamation In a dimly lit auditorium, where the audience sat in quiet anticipation, two authors took the stage under the sharp glare of spotlights. At
Crossover Flirting By Allison Whittenberg Share Poetry Imagine your finance’s hand up my thigh,Him telling me I looked like a Black Julia RobertsSo innocent, so hotSomething about my narrow faceMy steel belted radial lips…All rightI liked itThis being fed.Enormous is
Bombay Beach By Kendrick Lee Share Stories PART 1: THE END OF THE WORLD 1. Chan gets a little lostAfternoon. Out past hundreds of miles of natural nothing, under a blistering summer sun, long past the point Palm
Membership Login Forum Search The Collection:Chapter 81984 By Amari Pleasant Share Essays Eeriness is the aura that sweeps out the speakers. A mosaic of anguish illustrated through solemn instrumentation…punctuated by sobering groans, gravely bass strums, moody keys, and grimacing whimpers.
Carver By Nick Young Share Stories I first met him when I was twenty-four. I remember it well—a quarter to eight in the morning, early September of the year nineteen-ninety-seven. I was fresh off the summer break after getting my
Breathtaking By Warren Benedetto Share Stories The dust storms were getting worse. People in town called them “black blizzards.” That’s exactly what they were like, too, like snowstorms made of soot and ash. One minute, the sky would be as
Celestial / Terrestrial Event By William Doreski Share Poetry In the green light of the auroraa bear emerges from the woodsto ransack bird feeders for seedand rummage the garden for grubs. No cubs so must be a male.He’s shaggy as
Anabel Lee By Paul Hilding Share Stories And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulcher there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. “Annabel Lee” by
Blame Rupert By Matias Travieso-Diaz Share Stories
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