The Black Woman Commandments I Cannot Keep

“I love your hair. You did it yourself?” “Aww, thank you. I wish. I can’t cornrow.” “Wait, you’re a little Black girl and you don’t know how to cornrow?” Correction: I’m a whole 30-something Black woman who doesn’t know how to cornrow. The exchange between my coworker and I is the epitome of Black Girl Magic with a side-eye of

Short Stories

“Adeaze”

“Good lord, girl. You swelling!” The girl looked down at her belly, then beyond it down to her shoes, at this she was secretly satisfied. She was not pregnant and in punishment for her tardiness, her body had begun to form pockets of fat on her lower back, and a rounding belly that no amount of cardio had the power

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midnight - The Black Speculative fiction issue

“Wading”

The winds bouncing off the gulf swaddle Fleur’s bare head as she stands at its fringes, and almost with the same delicacy her brother

“Dragonflies”

They were floating, flying in tandem, punctuated by the last of the year’s sunlight, perfectly together. Nothing could separate them. The voices of children,