Introducing: “midnight”
Speculative fiction by Black women writers

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INSIDE THE SPECULATIVE ISSUE

“Tika Zika”

It was called “Tika Zika”. They gave us instructions to lock ourselves away from each…

“The Affliction of Aesthetics”

Melam partially unzipped the full body control unit and took a deep breath. It was…

“Luz”

I’m not good at being a witch. To say that I’m incompetent wouldn’t even cover…

“How to Make a Wish”

On the first night the stars fell, the whole suburb rushed out of their beds…

“The Intersection”

“Curse this damned place. I don’t want anything to do with here.” Holson, my best…

NEW ON MIDNIGHT & INDIGO

“domicile”

I text Alicia that I’m outside and when she responds, I’m already ringing the doorbell.…

The Dancer

It’s a typical spring morning – a slight chill, cloud cover, and the threat of…

“Those That Sow and Those That Reap”

On a nimbus of decay, it emerged from the dark recesses of her closet and…

Tragic Mulatto

As a kid, I remember the subject of race coming up twice in our family.…

“The Devil in Tia Adelina’s Botanica”

It was a bitterly cold November evening, fifteen minutes or so before closing when the…

Eight Weeks; Two Days

I was ten years old when I first witnessed domestic violence. It was a hot summer day on Hobart street. Children were playing; adults were sitting on their steps and porches just…

SHORT STORIES

“How to Make a Wish”

On the first night the stars fell, the whole suburb rushed out of their beds and looked out their windows to see what kind of rain had caused a glow on their…

“Intervention: Luz Ortega”

Luz had faked a pregnancy in order to get the attention of her ex-boyfriend Johnny Rivera and kept it going for six months. Not only had other students been whispering that she…

“Hoodoo Lady Blues”

I stood at that door knowing the second I knocked on it I’d be a murderer. I had just limped two miles up the bayou barefoot, the swampy mud still stuck between…

“Holding Pattern”

When Lenaya is twenty-seven she begins to see pieces of her mama everywhere. In the red lip color worn by a stranger at the bar, in the thick country accent of her…

NARRATIVE ESSAYS

Once A Mother

I watched from my seat in the sparsely populated bleachers as the swimmers began to assemble for the first race. Underlying the smell of chlorine was a sense of restrained excitement and…

I Used to Love Myself

I don’t remember how old I was when my parents bought the brown metallic closet with the mirror on the front, but its presence in our home goes back as far as…

Namesake

I climbed the stairs to Aunt Tee’s apartment. The hallway was dark but the semi-opened blinds let in a hint of sunlight on the second-floor landing. The burgundy carpet was clean, other…

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…

midnight - SPECULATIVE FICTION

“Luz”

I’m not good at being a witch. To say that I’m incompetent wouldn’t even cover it. My witchcraft is an amateur cocktail of earnest internet searches and a few conferences on Hoodoo…

“How to Make a Wish”

On the first night the stars fell, the whole suburb rushed out of their beds and looked out their windows to see what kind of rain had caused a glow on their…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers
“The Intersection”

“Curse this damned place. I don’t want anything to do with here.” Holson, my best childhood friend, slammed the door and headed off on foot to the nearest mechanic. He just wants…

“Marjani’s Gift”

The leaves on the two maple trees in the yard beamed a spectacular fiery red as the blue bottles that hung from them shimmered under the late afternoon sun. It was an…