That's A Wrap_More? More Coffee?_All the Colored Leaves_Georgia's Hills

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That's A Wrap

More? More Coffee?

All the Colored Leaves

Georgia's Hills

That's A Wrap

That’s A Wrap!By Heather Ann MartinezEvery Sunday evening at seven o’clock, we sat down to eat at Joan’s Bed and Breakfast. Joan would cook all day after church. She called us her kids. She would tell everyone she met her kids were coming home for Swww.onedoor.ccunday dinner. We weren’t her kids at all. We hadn’t even heard of Joan or each other for that matter prior to the new train stop being added between Milwaukee and Chicago. We could commute on the train into downtown Chicago and stay at the bed and breakfast during the week. Then, we could commute back to Milwaukee on the weekends. It wasn’t the most...rKIone door

More? More Coffee?

I’M NOT GOING in the front. I’ll just wait here until someone comes out. The door swung open. “Hi Jessica. You back?” Ronny said, the dinner-hour, salad-prep guy. She answered him by only shrugging her shoulders--she didn’t know. She had a hunch she’d know where he was. Now in the kitchen of “Mio Amico” restaurant, she headed to the little staff lunchroom. There was Reed, her manager, sitting at the back table, alone in front of a pile of dirty dishes, scrubbing through his iPhone. Jessica sat down. He looked up, when he recognized her the edges of his mouth pinched, then frowned. He said noth...rKIone door

All the Colored Leaves

Trouble. It was a word that followed me from birth. That echoed in the halls of school. That seemed to exude from my dark black skin and the way kids would look at me like I were an enigma. A problem. Trouble.It was the inexorable weight placed on a young black girl’s shoulders by a society of expectations. A Georgetown study calls this the adultifaction of young black girls finding that “girls as young as 5 need less protection and nurturing than their white peers” which itself is linked to higher standards and harsher treatment.In a word, trouble.It was the word that passed through my mind a...rKIone door

Georgia's Hills

“That’s the Nights went out in Georgia, muhhhmm, blahh, hummh, that’s the night that they hung an innocent man”. Mary Beth couldn’t recall all the words to that classic song, so she kept repeating the words she did know, and blahh blahhing though the rest of it. She was trying to determine if she liked Reba McEntire’s version better, or whatever the name of the artist that sang it before, her was it maybe Vicky? She wasn’t sure of any of those answers, and she recalled how she would have solved this dilemma in the past. She would have pulled up her iPhone, or her iPad, or her laptop and looked...rKIone door