Short Stories

Black-handed

He stared at me, hidden and protected by all the dropped heads looking at their phones in the crowd. He looked like an officer, but most white men do to me. He had a gun snuggling against his hip though. But he didn’t have a uniform on, just a faded shirt that said FBI: Female… Continue reading Black-handed

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My Poetry

Bullets.

Flying high through the sky.   Flying through schools. Flying through churches.   Flyinf through stores. Flying through night clubs. Flying through running marathons. Flying through airports. Flying through windows. Flying through the streets.     Flying through cars. Flying through restaurants. Flying through offices. Flying through homes. Flying through you! Flying through me!  … Continue reading Bullets.

My Poetry

How to Commit a Crime.

Stand still. Walk. Breathe. Hold your breath. Smile. Frown. Laugh. Cry. Blink. Wink. Talk. Be quiet. Have black skin...