The Mole arrived in the summer of 2020, the same summer I dropped out of
The David story is now a bit I have down pat. First, I paint David
Part I: Just For Me I look forward to the tri-annual ritual. My mother prepares
My grandma’s house was always full. The hinges on the front door were almost invisible.
“If y’all weren’t so difficult, maybe it’ll be easier to get a man.” “Y‘all? Difficult?”
The day Chiamaka disappeared, her father left the house in precisely three pieces. The first
I. Places that I am terrified of returning to: Shitty $49-a-night motels with dingy sheets
At the produce markets that populated Church Avenue, if someone cut in line or pushed
It’s late afternoon as we climb into my father’s gray Mercedes. As we stay stationary
Sometimes she thought it must be loneliness that made her see things. She could see
