Nance Harding 
Hannah sat deep in thought waiting for the reception room’s red light to turn green indicating she could open the door to Dr. Dysart’s interior space. She was trying to decide what to talk about – the love bombing or green. Green was her favorite color and had been ever since she had learned the … Read more
Even the color of my skin belies who I really am. Always on the outside looking in . . . even with my own kin. Blonde and blue-eyed born into a brown world, I came to see myself through their eyes, their skin, their pain. White woman brown heart, I am. I didn’t understand … Read more
In the time it took him to close the three yards of separation between us, a well-dressed young man with a Saints ballcap pulled down low was holding a Glock 19 semi-automatic to my head. I’d been hypervigilant for three weeks after a New Orleans tarot card reader at the Golden Leaves Bookstore divined bad … Read more
In the inner world, time has a way of standing still long enough so you can come to your senses. Then you can have eyes that see and ears that hear. My Aunt Jewel taught me this more by example than with words. She had no use for words and she wasn’t really my aunt. … Read more
