new black fiction

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to find joy in reading again. I had this same goal last year–and let’s face it,…

I was tiptoeing past my mama’s bedroom—hoping not to disturb her afternoon nap, a crime I’m accused of committing…

My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” —Psalm 42

I wanted to believe it didn’t mean anything.

“And that was when Mr. Bailey groped you?” the human resources manager’s face showed no trace of emotion. He had put…

Kuokoa B. Mchango was certain that it was the last night he would be alive, for you see, tomorrow was his 28th…

In the summer of 1998, shortly after my girlfriend Valerie moved out of our Brooklyn apartment, using the excuse…

Janice limply heaves the thick unabridged dictionary into the metal trash can at the corner of Vandam and crosses…