Love Archives | midnight & indigo

After Toni Morrison: A Hot Thing

A.T. Mitchell — Mon, 11 May 2026 11:16:27 +0000

She won’t let go until I do. Like jazz. Reaffirming that I am beloved, she sits me in her lap, adopts Maw-maw’s eye, to loose that circle of iron. Then she leads me to the clearing as I cry. Cry to the sound of her calling “What did Toni Morrison teach you?” I was asked this by a professor after a semester of studying Morrison’s Song of Solomon, Beloved, Paradise, and Playing in the Dark. How can I begin to answer such a question? I don’t think I can. And it’s not because I didn’t learn anything, but because what

The post After Toni Morrison: A Hot Thing appeared first on midnight & indigo.

Àbíkú

K E Garland — Fri, 24 Apr 2026 22:34:28 +0000

I arranged a reading with a Santería priestess per my sister’s advice. Our ancestors had provided her with divine clarity and when she inquired about messages for me, they said, She is a skeptic. She has to do this herself. A week later, I followed instructions: I dressed in all white, set an unlit white candle nearby, and impatiently waited for the priestess to call. Introductions were short and, within the first five minutes, several spirits appeared as a caucus of cacophony. They overwhelmed the priestess with declarations, laughter, and advice: She comes from a long line of Native Americans.

The post Àbíkú appeared first on midnight & indigo.

We Are Only a Moment: An Ode to My Mother

Kiah Wallace — Mon, 10 Nov 2025 13:37:37 +0000

It’s April, and around this time I usually get a visit from an old friend–grief. A visit that I never looked forward to until now, I understand it now. I leave the door open, but it slips through a window. The element of surprise seems to be necessary. I’m greeted with a tight hug, my eyes well up, and we take a ride down memory lane. I never understood the phrase ‘grief comes in waves’ until I was seated in the ocean. Melandy: a nurturer who exuded bravery and courage. My mother knew the power of her imagination and she

The post We Are Only a Moment: An Ode to My Mother appeared first on midnight & indigo.

God is in the tree

Briana Thomas — Wed, 05 Nov 2025 14:11:43 +0000

My grandmother’s mango tree is so big it’s like the size of an oak tree. It takes up so much space in her backyard that the next tree is more than six feet away. I’ve only known it to be big and powerful, sometimes daunting when the hurricane winds pass through its branches. How long has it been there? Nobody knows, but it creaks and sways as if it is ancient. I wonder how many seasons it’s seen. It’s much too big for me to climb so I always just say hello, play, eat, and read at its roots so

The post God is in the tree appeared first on midnight & indigo.

But I don’t want her to be sad

Cy White — Mon, 13 Oct 2025 00:10:23 +0000

Hey, hey, hey! You’ve reached the phenomenally favored and fantastic ______! It is her mantra every month. A cadence like daytime television, like weather that’s going to be sunny on the West Coast, with perfect skies and the perfect amount of wind to keep things pleasant. She steps into this role because she must. Because as mother, she believes that doing so will make her… My mother and I are headed to the magical pink Candyland of Dallas, Texas, where Mary Kay consultants, directors and internationally renowned bedazzled, Pepto-pink juggernauts known as Nationals converge

The post But I don’t want her to be sad appeared first on midnight & indigo.

Time is Different in Toronto

Udochukwu Chidera — Sun, 21 Sep 2025 04:00:35 +0000

Japa – Migration (Noun) Origin: Yoruba, meaning ‘to run swiftly’ ‘to escape’ Translated from the Nigerian Urban Dictionary The year after the shoot-out cut short the lives of innocent protesters at the Lekki tollgate in Lagos marked the period of mass exodus of many Nigerian citizens. That same year, my cousin was kidnapped. I didn’t wait to be the next victim stuffed in the back of a car like a sack of potatoes; I left. I packed my two suitcases with my dreams, jackets and thermal wears, and was embraced by the cold Canadian wind that rushed into my nostrils

The post Time is Different in Toronto appeared first on midnight & indigo.

Nanny’s Cry For Me

Shonda Smith — Mon, 08 Sep 2025 04:00:58 +0000

I never saw Nanny cry. Not even when her humble, eat-off-the-floor-clean basement apartment flooded repeatedly. Back in those terribly inconvenient days, it was normal for all of us—especially my mom, sister, and me—to worry profusely when the weather forecast called for rain, especially heavy ones. We knew any hint of a deluge meant my poor Nanny was in for a day or two of mopping those black-and-white, faux marble, linoleum floors, along with managing garbage bag after garbage bag of trash removal, and prayers for a dry season. A seamstress by trade, my Nanny knew instinctively how to patch things

The post Nanny’s Cry For Me appeared first on midnight & indigo.

Bleu Rivers

Love makeda — Mon, 11 Aug 2025 04:00:35 +0000

Sometimes I close my eyes and all I can see is me in Bleu—me in his arms, me in his whispers, me in his dreams. I try not to close my eyes. Try not to forget that I vowed to escape the smallness of this island. It suffocates me. Mama, the most. She blames me for Papi’s death. It happened three years ago when I was only fourteen. And I couldn’t have stopped Papi’s dinghy from getting lost at sea anymore than Mama could. Still, if she was the hammer, I was her nail. She never failed to hit me

The post Bleu Rivers appeared first on midnight & indigo.

What Writing a Romance Novel Out of Spite Taught Me About the Fictional Man

Desiree Winns — Wed, 25 Jun 2025 04:00:53 +0000

I started my romance novel the same way I started most academic papers: with a burning research question and just a bit of rage. The question was this: why can’t Black women be rescued or wanted in romance? I was twenty years old in the time of Disney Princess remakes and men are trash rants, a moment when white feminism was insisting that women didn’t need to be saved. My life at that moment was a dreary dichotomy of taking online classes and orders at a chicken restaurant. I would have certainly welcomed being saved from the boredom of making

The post What Writing a Romance Novel Out of Spite Taught Me About the Fictional Man appeared first on midnight & indigo.

Candles in the Window: A Generational Blessing of Hospitality

Lex Dunbar — Wed, 28 May 2025 04:00:15 +0000

For as long as I can remember, my great-grandmother never let a night go by without turning on the electric candlesticks perfectly placed in each window of our home. MumMum, as she was affectionately called, was about 5 feet and 4 inches tall with the most beautiful blemish-free, deep honey-brown skin and a laugh that enveloped her entire body. The joy in her voice when she was with family, or at church, or visiting neighbors would fill the lonely space in the air. MumMum lived life with her arms, hands, and heart wide open. My mother and I moved into

The post Candles in the Window: A Generational Blessing of Hospitality appeared first on midnight & indigo.