“The Saapin’s Spell” by Vashti Bowlah
It was hard to resist the lure of Miss Chantal. Her silky-smooth waist-length hair was as dark as her haunting round eyes, set a little too far apart in her heart-shaped face . . .
It was hard to resist the lure of Miss Chantal. Her silky-smooth waist-length hair was as dark as her haunting round eyes, set a little too far apart in her heart-shaped face . . .
To celebrate the release of New-Generation African Poets (Tatu), a new limited-edition chapbook box set, we’re pleased to feature the introduction from editors Kwame Dawes and Chris Abani.
Read an excerpt from The Mastermind by David Unger, along with a short statement from the author on writing the book.
JR often watched TV with Grandma—either he would watch his cartoon or educational programs, or she would watch HGTV or a tattoo competition series . . .
He wasn’t sure of the name—Michelle, Danielle, one of those. They’d only meet eight hours earlier . . .
I can’t get out of my seat belt fast enough. . . .
The Woodsman takes a nip of rum and stares out from under the brim of his battered ball cap. “Fucking Green Hell,” he mutters under his breath . . .
Eddie had always been a quiet man. Living on the outskirts of the village meant he was always met with a curious but hesitant eye. The village children were always warned to stay away from him . . .