Fiction Friday: Spared Parts – Part 2

Fiction Friday: Spared Parts – Part 2

Read Part 1 Here We both have had a rough ride getting here, you and I. You know, put through the grater by friends and family. From middle school through high school, I was an easy target for ridicule or pity. I had a toad’s complexion but lacked an amphibian’s...
Fiction Friday: Spared Parts – Part 1

Fiction Friday: Spared Parts – Part 1

Usually there’d be a few dozen ears spread out on the white counter sorted out by size and complexion near a jumbled heap of them, as though someone had been called away from a grisly game of solitaire. I’d usually scoop them up in a box, pretending I thought they had...
Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 4

Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 4

Read Part 3 here. Permit me voyage, Love, into your hands.  –  James Agee The sun was high in the smoky-blue haze by the time they began, making every step an effort. When she saw two goldfinches dart by, she warned the boys not to brush against the thistles...
Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 2

Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 2

Read Part 1 here. Permit me voyage, Love, into your hands.  –  James Agee Once at home, Missouri felt awkward about the few minutes she had spent talking to the woman. She felt the need to hide them from Phyllis, to produce some sort of alibi for herself, as if...
Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 1

Fiction Friday: Permitted Voyage – Part 1

Permit me voyage, Love, into your hands.  –  James Agee Missouri, a tall, lanky black-skinned teenager, with an early grace to her movements, paused at the edge of the forest and closed her enormous brown eyes and took in all the scents of early spring around...
Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 4

Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 4

Read Part 3 Here The faces of the children captured his gaze before his eyes could wander over what he insisted was not bronze but pure gold. The faces were finely wrought with all the realistic details of the human form, down to the very lines around the joints of...
Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 3

Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 3

Read Part 2 Here Wilson’s career in Nigeria began at age thirty with his employment as a kind of managerial watchdog for a British retail firm. The company had established itself earlier in the century by engaging in the trade of palm oil for use in the manufacture of...
Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 2

Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 2

Read Part 1 Here “Was his hair oiled, uncut, and braided wildly, like an Osu with ties of many colors?” he demanded. His face was flooded with awe, agony, and intense concentration—his bloodshot eyes quivering and glinting, reminding me of broken eggs with...
Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 1

Fiction Friday: The Begging Bowl – Part 1

If it were not for the story he told me that day, I would have remembered him for his eyes. Each gasp of speech and great gulping for breath set them aquiver like sun-glint green apples on the surface of twin cisterns—two yellow-tainted, claret-crazed chamber pots...