Stay conneOur Separate WaysRhetoric’s apartment was in a block between a no-name bodega, (that’s what he called it) and a small laundromat. The locals were a mix of…Jun 7, 2021Jun 7, 2021
Grandmother’s TongueGrandmother arrived unannounced, again. She had her turmoil filled suitcases and her sharp devil’s tongue in tow. She had made herself at…Mar 15, 2021Mar 15, 2021
Flash Fiction by Pietra DunmoreWhen I asked Rafael his occupation he smiled and told me his history of start-ups: silk bowties, artisan turkey jerky, and organic…Mar 15, 2021Mar 15, 2021
Our Neighbors, Our Ownby Katherine Gleason [Editor’s Note: This piece is part of the “Topical” series, with each piece solely submitted to and chosen by the…Feb 3, 2021Feb 3, 2021
“You’re a Pretty Girl”‘Pretty’ is a word I am very hesitant to use to describe myself. To many, that might sound like a compliment. It isn’t. Those three words…Nov 16, 2020Nov 16, 2020
“The Treasure in Another Woman’s Trash” by Pietra DunmoreYears ago, I confessed to my friend Naomi that I wanted a husband more than a career. She rolled her eyes and said, “Pablo Picasso says…Jul 14, 2020Jul 14, 2020
The lie of the “uniform” Black experience. — The IntersectionToday I had my blackness questioned, again. It is a familiar scenario that rears its ugly head from time to time, because I was raised in…Jun 23, 2020Jun 23, 2020