Around 11 P.M yesterday, on my way back home from *****, my mind drifted to my grandmother. I remembered all of the things I should have when she died and in the backseat of a taxi - in all of the quiet and discomfort - I cried all of the tears I should have cried … Continue reading Fleeting: The Translucent Ghosts of Memories Past.
Fivusu was startled awake by the howling of wolves. He shot up from the make-shift bed he had made out of palm fronds and looked about him, but his eyes registered little in the darkness. His bonfire was all about dead; only a fading trail of smoke curled its way up from the ashes, stretching … Continue reading FIVISUHUNUNYAME: West African Folk-Fiction