You like when I tell you things that make you feel good about yourself. I drove to Gigglin’ Marlin and what of it? The outdoor speakers in the parking lot across Almeda made me feel upset in the sunshine, blasting R&B songs I knew. The party set up on the block; I waited in the car reading Sula. Ten minutes later, a worn- out woman shuffled over pulling a shopping cart behind her. She wanted food or money and I had none on me at the time. Her dark skin was smooth, and her eyes had the look of perfectly shaped almonds, eyes just like my aunt. Tired, hot, hungry… none of this applied to me, I was protected. Ask aloud, I dare you. Better yet, roll down the window, but no, you don’t, and neither do I, I play it safe, wrestle with a well-worn demon suit inside the car with the AC on high. Who’s suffering now? Not me, not you, just she. Fish hooks in her gut, and we get caught up in fishnets, stocking up on impossible burgers and deboned salmon. God you asked, How was your day, my fallen angel? Well, I’m telling you all about it. This morning I watched the sunlight pushing through the trees, and I wanted to know how the golden rays of light bled through the leaves. I witnessed the oldest miracle; in the city a woman climbed out of the sea of her troubles into the sunshine to beg.
Abena Ntoso is a writer living in Houston, Texas, where she teaches English and is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing at Oklahoma City University. Her writing has been published in Adelaide Literary Magazine, The Satirist, ONE ART, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Trampoline, Equinox, and The Wrath-Bearing Tree.
