Brooklyn Deva - Artist | Short Stories
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Short Stories

11 Sep

Posted at 15:46h in Short Stories by
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When I used to sit in my large oak tree, looking over the wooden fence into my neighbor's yard, I always caught myself staring at his bright red poppies. Their petals touching as though they relied on one another. I remember the day he got them. It seemed every day I looked at them they...

29 Jan

Posted at 11:04h in Short Stories by
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My name is Luisa Cartenson. When I was 5, my Mama, Opal, and I were sold to a master who lived in North Carolina. I was born without a father and only ever knew to love my Mama. We were set with the jobs as house slaves. Though it is a better job, because you...