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	<title>Bria Dinkins, Author at midnight &amp; indigo</title>
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		<title>&#8220;The Least Spicy Hot sauce&#8221;</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bria Dinkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 14 Aug 2021 04:00:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short fiction]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[<p>When she hears his car door shut close behind him, Queen has just finished her to-do list. She writes one every day, not because she thinks it’s evidence of her being a good housewife, but because she knows that people who write to-do lists are more likely to get those things done than people who don’t. She pretends that this is an instinct rather than a habit, rather than a practice she’s been practicing for months now, a practice she’s instilled in her daily life along with everything else she does for a reason. She hovers over the piece of</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://www.midnightandindigo.com/least-spicy-hotsauce/">&#8220;The Least Spicy Hot sauce&#8221;</a> appeared first on <a href="https://www.midnightandindigo.com">midnight &amp; indigo</a>.</p>
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		<title>Signs</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bria Dinkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Jan 2021 05:45:21 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[<p>It’s late afternoon as we climb into my father’s gray Mercedes. As we stay stationary in the garage, I lean my fro against the pane and stare out of it and above into the cobwebs collecting in the far corner; a bee lands briefly on the hood my mother’s Lexus named Sky (since she’s light sky blue) next to us. My father clicks the remote which opens the door and we back out, the bee swiftly following. Father pauses in the driveway and asks me which general direction we should go in. I am in a surly mood, like I</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://www.midnightandindigo.com/signs/">Signs</a> appeared first on <a href="https://www.midnightandindigo.com">midnight &amp; indigo</a>.</p>
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