Ianna A. Small | Founder & Editor in Chief Ianna A. Small is the visionary force behind midnight & indigo, a media company with a literary focus dedicated to celebrating the voices of Black women writers worldwide. As CEO and…
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I took the longest strides of my life during my first winter in America. Race-walking in between classes as my nostrils felt slithering pain at every inhalation and exhalation. When I packed up everything— my belongings that could fit in…
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“They’re making fun of my Arabic,” whispers my cousin as he squeezes…
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The summer Aneka’s leg is broken, her big sister Rima has a sleepover with all of her lacrosse friends. Aneka helps her set up…
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If I walked to the window in the kitchen, the little one right above the creaky sink, I could look out over the backyard…
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My mother never gave me the family recipe for candied yams, so I gotta figure it out myself. Everyone else already has a Sunday…
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Si·en·na /sēˈenə/ noun a kind of ferruginous earth used as a pigment in painting, normally yellowish-brown in color (raw sienna) or deep reddish-brown when roasted (burnt sienna). …
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For seven days straight, I’d dreamed of snapping green beans at my Nana’s feet, on the floor in the dining room, up against the wall with a metal…
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My favorite book as a child was The People Could Fly. I stared with fascination at the illustrations of people with backs as straight as ironing boards, feet…
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When Sunduq was four she got stuck in the hope chest in her grandmother’s bedroom. Her family looked for her for hours, eventually calling the…
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The fireflies hovered in front of me, their green bodies emitting a radio buzz with their wings. Crickets hummed and perched themselves in trees as…
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They were floating, flying in tandem, punctuated by the last of the year’s sunlight, perfectly together. Nothing could separate them. The voices of children, the…
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1966 Sweat trickled down James’s forehead. The screaming from the crowd was earsplitting. The lights were so bright around the ring, and he couldn’t even…
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Clumps of wrinkled, white flesh hang from grandmother’s face and pool in the nape of her neck like turkey waddle. Her eyelids flutter but never…
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For seven days straight, I’d dreamed of snapping green beans at my Nana’s feet, on the floor in the dining room, up against the wall…
More