A.C. Yeboah Poetry Collection
“what if you never said sorry for taking up the space you hold, you no longer nursed your pain like a fever-high toddler.”
“what if you never said sorry for taking up the space you hold, you no longer nursed your pain like a fever-high toddler.”
Congratulations to the winners of the 2024 Dreamers Micro Nonfiction Story Writing Contest, for nonfiction stories between 100-300 words.
“An impatient horn outside sends me running from the room, down the stairs, and into the star-filled night.”
I stumble out of the matatu taxi, struggle to hoist up my weighty backpack, and am immediately confronted by several people standing nearby under the leafy canopy of a large thorny acacia tree.
Arziki said, “I laid down in the desert with the dead bodies. I played dead so the men would leave me alone. It is not easy for me to do,” she said, smiling ear to ear.
“Words were minced into morsels that she could spit across the room like outrageous profanities.”
“She is the daughter who heard the news. Whose eyes began to well, but after eighteen years is all out of tears”
“No one told us what we should do while doctors opened his ribcage and stopped his heart.”
“One night is all it took, two people fall in a flash, one instant freezes the moment”