Short Stories
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When I Am With You, You Drive My Mother’s Mercedes
You take the glass from me, wrap your palm around my head, and my hair spills through the gaps between your fingers like a waterfall. It stings a little, but I do not mind. Then you pull me into you for a hug, and the patchouli from the scent I begged you to wear earlier… Continue reading
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This Is Not A Review of Heaven
I still think about him, and her, and all of them. I remember what we did to him, and I tell myself we were just kids then. You did not know better, the devil whispers. He wants me to forgive myself. But he lies. Continue reading
UCHENNA ONYISHI 