short stories & essays by Black women writers

midnight & indigo is a new literary platform connecting readers to digital + print content featuring our stories in our voices.

New content featured online every week.

Our first two print issues are available for purchase on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and in our Shop!

SHOP NOW

SHORT STORIES

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers
“Age-isms”

I. Rose stood in her tiny, cluttered living room, trying to remember why she was…

“Waiting Room”

My eyes shot open. I must’ve dozed off. My head was pounding. Perhaps it was…

“Tia”

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?” I shielded my eyes from the glaring sunlight. Its warmth…

“A Deadly Weapon”

1966 Sweat trickled down James’s forehead. The screaming from the crowd was earsplitting. The lights…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers
“tea at miss daisy’s”

Many days we passed Miss Daisy’s house and yelled hi. She would usually call us…

“The Anxiety of Two Digits”

The buzzer rang. In exactly three and a half minutes, she would be outside of…

NARRATIVE ESSAYS

The Bean

I thought of it as punishment, had I been walking the right path I wouldn’t…

Black Stories are Educating & Traumatizing Me

Has it happened to you? Maybe you’re scrolling through Twitter searching… no, damn near begging…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers
In Remembrance of Fast Girls

They built a church on the land where my body was broken. Parishioners come every…

Not Part of the Agreement

My nails kept time on the arm of the chaise to the ticking of the…

Black Barbie

Daddy straddled the heap of toys that lived on the floor of our playroom in…

Delky, Tevin Campbell, and The Promise of Today

I hope tomorrow will bring a better you, better me I know that we’ll show…

“Simple Mind Play on Crazy Rose”

About time, Rose grumbled under her breath as she snatched up her two half-filled garbage bags from the ground and made her way toward the front of the line. Even with an…

Not my Daughter

“Sit still.” I braced myself for the familiar sting of the plastic comb against some vulnerably-exposed area of my head, neck or shoulders. A few seconds passed and I slowly opened my…

Connect with Us @midnightandindigo

http://I%20hate%20living%20in%20this%20house%20where%20there%20is%20no%20laughter,%20no%20voices%20in%20the%20background;%20it%20no%20longer%20feels%20like%20a%20home.%20⁠ 186 4
http://A%20young%20girl%20struggles%20to%20find%20her%20place%20in%20a%20family%20that%20is%20falling%20apart,%20and%20in%20a%20house%20that%20no%20longer%20feels%20like%20a%20home%20-%20in%20Cracked%20Flowerpots,%20a%20new%20#shortstory%20by%20Theresa%20Sylvester.⁠ 90 1
46 0
http://Our%202nd%20issue%20is%20available%20now!%20Featuring%20short%20stories%20and%20narrative%20essays%20by%2014%20Black%20woman%20writers.%20Do%20you%20have%20a%20copy?⁠ 99 2
226 1
30 0