A New Kind of Literary Pulse

In front of him, for nearly every minute he was awake, there was a screen.

He tried to recall a time when it wasn't this way. He couldn't, so he watched old movies to try to remember.

"Yeah ... [+]

Her mother’s name was Lara, too.

As her port-colored thumb hovered over the contact card on the unfamiliar iPhone’s screen, her eyes stinging as her mascara mixed with her tears, she knew ... [+]

Triggers are not absolute. They can be the color red, a sunny day, an indecipherable half-smile. For me, there is no obvious reason why the walls close in. No hidden meaning for the sudden shallow ... [+]

Why is this light so bright?

I lower the brightness on my phone screen so I don’t blind myself while lying in bed, and I immediately have flashbacks to my mom telling me, how bright lights in ... [+]

I exited the Interstate toward the Fordlet Hotel after a late night preparing my annual presentation to the local business leaders. My slides were finished days ago, but my words still needed ... [+]

We called it ‘frosting’, because the ice crystals looked like a dusting of confectioner’s sugar. Not what frosting actually is, or how it looks when you squeeze it out of the tube, but one kid ... [+]

The first time it really hits me, I'm staring at the peeling paint on the doorknob.
I long ago memorized the feeling of coming home – the click of my key in the door, the scent of Mom's stir fry ... [+]

“nappy head, nappy head, I catch your ass, you gone be dead”

-Assata Shakur


Girl you pretty
You so pretty with all that nappy hair
Stand up everywhere
Girl you pretty
No ... [+]

The engines whirred in the darkness. Jones could see their scarlet glow, dimming and brightening in time to the thrum, which meant the gears inside were still turning. Still alive. Almost like the ... [+]