I am a Black Girl writer who wants to enlighten the world of readers with my work.
This can’t be happening, I thought to myself. I looked around, and my entire canoe was surrounded by a pod of sharks. I felt like a small star in the vast sky, but I didn’t panic. Instead, I stopped paddling and lifted my paddle from the water. I looked over at Brian, my boyfriend, and he seemed petrified at the sharks that surrounded his canoe as well.
THE BOX FROM HELL
When my Amazon package finally arrived at my doorstep, I was relieved. I quickly collected it, dodging the screen door from slamming against my back, as well as the sunlight that illuminated my white shirt and blinded my eyes.
BAKING THE HATE OUT OF HATRED
I walked the drizzling streets of New York until I entered a bakery shop that had boarded windows, except one that had dilapidated foam creations on display in the window. Inside the shop, an old white man dressed in an apron approached me. His movements were slow but brash. His skin was overrun by sunspots and wrinkles, and a stern expression was on his face. I immediately understood that the old man was not the type to hashtag the winner of Rupaul’s Drag Race anytime soon.
THE PRICE OF LIES
CHICAGO TO ASPEN I often think about what happened in Aspen at least two times a day now. It haunts me, but mainly it taught me about life. I remember it all as if it were just yesterday.