#1MinFiction: Moving Out

I haven’t eaten in two days. Made a home for myself in this alley— newspaper for blankets, my shoulder bag as a pillow against the stoop to our apartment.

When he sees me like this, he’ll let me back in, I lie to keep myself warm at night.

The light at the end of my “tunnel,” the sounds of traffic, the voices of strangers frighten me.

But I must prove to myself that I can live…

…without him.


This short, albeit rusty, piece of flash (I’ve been away too long) is brought to you by Monday’s One-Minute Fiction, a challenge that asks you to write a story in one minute, no more, no less, based on the prompt provided.

I struggled to squeeze everything I wanted to say into a minute, but maybe you had better luck with today’s B&W photo prompt…

#BlaPoWriMo: Boycott the Dark Girl (poem)

Boycott the dark girl!

Don’t tell them about race; Middle America
doesn’t want to face your afros and wide nose,
your full lips and round hips.

Boycott the dark girl!

Rip open your blouse, measure the humpback
on which a nation’s edifices are housed,
count the scars from raw cowhide
whipped in formation of a chokecherry plantation.

Boycott the dark girl!

Mend your heartstrings across the violin bridge,
play an empowering song with the bow of your fist.
Splash shades of brown through the stadium field—
a prism of acceptance, their politics must yield.

Boycott the dark girl!

A call for peace, an end to violence
is an attack, they say.
You were beaten, raped,
your genitals dissected and put on display.

Dance on the boycott, dark girl;

Hatred can’t make them turn you away.
Your purple skin is imperial; reclaim your domain
as you slay on the stage in Black Panther berets.