SHORT STORY: DRY THIS TEARS BY MARY JANE CHIAMAKA .A. OKORO
One day, he spoke. He had called you nne, as he watched them do what they did to you, he was in the arms of another woman, Mazi Uzundu’s wife, who pretended to be touched by the situation.
FLASH FICTION: TO THE WOODS WE SHALL RETURN BY AJAO IBRAHIM BELLO
But then our history is sad, we never really get back home, we’re spirits roaming the street. Humans when they’re done with us, when they’ve ripped apart all that matters to us, the toss aside into the wind and then we become dirt, we become part of what the hate.
Short Story: Seasons By Dami Lola
Mother was in one of the armchairs and not only was I surprised to see that she filled the chair, but she was sitting in the darkness.