Not my Daughter

“Sit still.” I braced myself for the familiar sting of the plastic comb against some vulnerably-exposed area of my head, neck or shoulders. A few seconds passed and I slowly opened my clenched fists and eyes, relaxed my hunched shoulders, and tried my best not to move as I silently praised God for another escape…

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“All The Things I Should Have Said”

I email him and tell him that I want to see him. I send it…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers

“Age-isms”

I. Rose stood in her tiny, cluttered living room, trying to remember why she was…

SHORT STORIES

“Holding Pattern”

When Lenaya is twenty-seven she begins to see pieces of her mama everywhere. In the…

midnight & indigo literary journal for black writers

“Unresolved”

I stood outside of her room and took a deep breath before going in. I…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers

“Saturdays”

I sat in the passenger seat next to Ms. Kramer, my social worker, lookin’ out the…

ESSAYS

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers

4 Golden Girls & An Awkward Black Woman Who’s Going Through Some Thangs

Every Friday night I come home from work, change my clothes and I flop down…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers

Trudging through the Mud: Leaning into Your Mess

The alarm pings and the piercing sound reverberates through the walls. My eyes blur to…

At the Intersection of Black, Queer, and Mother

My journey to motherhood has at once been a step forward into uncharted territory and…

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