Harlem was always gray in February–even at night. The cold atmosphere seemed to suck the color from the very walls. Vibrancy was neither good nor allowed. Even the men coming back to their imprisoned wives from their dreary jobs walked with sorrow in their steps. A ragged woman whose black hair had faded into a lifeless silver sat at the corner of the street singing to herself.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicide, brief mentions of sexual assault, violence involving children, very strong language, gore/body horror. “She lost her focus yesterday, She lost her focus in the sun, She sits and stares at it for hours.” The first time I told Amanda she was acting strange was in the last few days of spring. The…
The piece is a short story written from the perspective of a theoretical future society where the government is monitoring and collecting vast amounts of surveillance on its citizens at all times. The piece poses the question, what would happen if this library of information was leaked onto the internet? Pianississimo 7:14 AM EST, 32.7357°…
