Good, good man

He was the first one on Beulah or anywhere in this neighborhood I ever talked to. I came here white-fearful. But I came with a poker face, trying to be far more woke than I felt on the inside, trying to get my body to match what I considered to be my educated deconstructing mind. [...]

What is this place?

They say that you can never go back home. I used to think this was a certain cruelty, as if leaving somehow was always a betrayal, one that got you banned or held at arm's length or just not privy to the important things, the inside things that matter most. To be away with your [...]

A slight rumbling

"Shannon?" She is whispering in the dark from the top bunk, and I am frozen in place on the bottom one. It's a bit after 4am. "I'm awake," I whisper back. "Did you hear that?" I did hear that, first one pistol shot, followed by six or seven more in rapid succession, somewhere close, between [...]

Beulah

It’s early October two years ago. The handwriting on the envelope is becoming more familiar now, but the return address is new. He has just moved across the country to Beulah Street. We’ve been writing letters for a few months, pretty innocently we think, just two Facebook acquaintances from a former season of life together [...]