“The Passing”

midnight & indigo literary journal for black writers

Clumps of wrinkled, white flesh hang from grandmother’s face and pool in the nape of her neck like turkey waddle. Her eyelids flutter but never quite open. I stroke her left hand, liver-spotted and marked with bluish-green bruises from the IVs. She still wears the gold wedding band grandfather slipped on her finger six decades…

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ISSUE 2 – Sneak Peek

  midnight & indigo is a literary journal dedicated to short fiction and narrative essays…

“Simple Mind Play on Crazy Rose”

About time, Rose grumbled under her breath as she snatched up her two half-filled garbage…


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…

“The Search”

The thick warmth of the air engulfs me as I step off the plane. “This…


My Butterfly Will Never Become A Caterpillar

I am the only girl in my family. When I say ‘only’ I do not…

The Bean

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

How to Share A Bed

When my little sister invited me to be her Maid of Honor, she sent me…

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