short-stories
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Father Who Battles His Demons 🥷 — A Hood Chronicle
South Central Strike your heel three times, Dorothy — “Go home. Go home. Go home. Leave! This is not your home…” Maybe the voices will vanish, maybe the glass will stop shaking. The chants bleed through the television, vibrating the screen like a cheap coiled bed spring, a warning siren rattling the room. Donald Trump… Continue reading
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🥷 HOOD CHRONICLES – Running in the Cool Breeze
The night is cool— but cool don’t last. It can turn quick, quick like a viper bite snapping your cardiac veins. On the Blade, daylight calm flips to heat the moment shadows stretch across the strip. Streetlights hum like spotlights, waiting for their performers— hardworking people crawling home in traffic, immigrants siphoned from Mexico, El… Continue reading
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From South Central to Wherever the Pavement Runs 🥷 — A Hood Chronicle
THE BLADE South Central – Past Ten A strip of Figueroa that, in daylight, is just another stretch in South Central — schools, mechanic shops, liquor stores. The women — ladies of the night, the blade’s own night shift — are there too, scattered like shadows in daylight. At night, those shadows grow and overtake… Continue reading