Fiction

 

The Poems of Apricity

December is my favourite month of the year. Every time I go outside to breathe in the fresh winter air and wander around the city, I reflect on the time when I was a child. … Read the whole text

 

Permanent Residents  

Ilona and Keith fell in love with the house at first sight. Truth be told, it didn’t have the amenities Keith was looking for, namely, an outside shed to put his bikes in and another one … Read the whole text

 

Bat

I’m in the kitchen scrubbing the insides of a kettle when I hear Pa say, Bia nwoke. I dash into the parlour while Ma goes on humming over the pot of egusi soup she is preparing. Each time … Read the whole text

 

Black Market  

They kicked in my door at three in the morning, four goons wearing camouflage overalls and balaclavas. I was flattered such a force was thought necessary to subdue me, but I would have complied had they called … Read the whole text

 

The River 

He stood in the rain, looking back along a quaintly curving street of houses half-hidden by trees and vines. He’d grabbed a raincoat and a hat before going outside, but rain dripped from the hem of his … Read the whole text

 

Stamping The Dead

It was an unwritten law of the land that no dead person was to be buried until his left buttock was properly stamped with the royal seal by the officials in the capital. Those who buried … Read the whole text

 

Another August

 “…And let’s go off sailing, my dear, with our spirits intertwined. Your body is just an old sandbar in a speeding hourglass of time.”   From “I Am Full of Love Tonight” by Hafiz

 

There … Read the whole text

Wild Turkey

Climbing the outside steps to Glynda’s apartment, Mick Garrity felt the gravity of experience slowing his step. The sky was spitting wet snow at him, paying him back for some screw up he could not put his finger … Read the whole text

 

Losses    

The first time he made love to me, I was fifteen and Simon was eighteen. He visited me in Nkayi a few times before he introduced me to his uncle Mabhena and his family. Mabhena had … Read the whole text

 
 Stars above Detroit  

It was a cold and snowy December when I was handed the address of a “crack house” in one of the deserted and boarded up Detroit neighborhoods once inhabited by happy families whose source of livelihood … Read the whole text