“Sittin’ on the dock of the bay,” Julian began to sing to herself as she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, “watching the tides roll away.”  How much easier that would be, she thought, to roll away with the tides? If only. But healing wasn’t a passive process and Julian had made the steadfast decision to return to her childhood residence months ago. The urge to give in and run away was tempting. With a twist of the wheel, she could change lanes and leave Georgia. Maybe even head for the ‘Fisco Bay like Otis Redding mused in his song. She could feel the sand between her toes already…but…

She’s late, I think as I drum my gloved fingers in annoyance against the cold tinted window of my mother’s car. It’s been nearly an hour since she ditched me in this freezing metal contraption with a rushed promise of, “It’ll be quick”, as she slammed the car door behind her.  “Fat chance that was,” I mumble to myself with slight disappointment. Why I ever trusted her to be timely, I’ll never know. For as long as I’ve known the woman, which has just been my entire life, she’s always been late.   When I was younger, Dad even told me she was late to my birth. Incredulously, I know, especially…

When I was a girl, there were movie theaters. Before the collapse of the film industry, before the COVID-19 pandemic, there were brick buildings lined with vinyl posters as far as the eye could see. I remember crushed velvet carpet beneath my sneakers and the lingering scent of well-buttered burnt popcorn in the lobby. If I cuff my ear, I can hear the murmurings of a ghost crowd excited for what could have been a summer blockbuster. Children are screeching at the top of their lungs and ducking in and out of the stanchions separating the queues as their parents hurry to purchase tickets to Pixar’s latest animation. Do you…

And on the seventh day, He created the world. I’ve regretted my existence ever since. Who asked to be bloated the size of Venus and swallowed in oceans? Not I. I used to have abs, rock-solid; now, all I have is soggy soil. Maggots and worms wriggle within my mantle and vegetation has infested my crust. I am bruised blue and green, beaten against by the feet of the two-legged hair-less pale-skinned creatures. They’re mindless of their abuse and consume from me at an alarming rate. Take from me my trees. Take from me my water. They suckled me dry and made me feeble, feebler than He ever did.  Gone…

Before becoming a plant parent, I never understood why people would lease their lives to another living being for at least 16 years if not more. That’s a lot of time; the life expectancy of most people is 72 years and that’s without considering external factors like race or environmental hazards. As a black queer woman living in America, more than my biological clock is ticking. With the death toll of black people increasing every minute, I’m more aware of my time than ever. Not a second should be wasted on idle conversation, but as I stand here in this customer service line at Home Depot surrounded by other angst-ridden…

When choosing to forgo getting my driver’s permit in high school, I always assumed I’d get it later. It wasn’t an if, just a really late when. But 16 became 18 and 18 turned 20 and now I’m 21 years old without a permit. When asked about this abnormality, I normally answer, “It’s a choice”. I explain I’m a climate change activist and an advocate for public transportation followed with alarming statistics about greenhouse gas emissions caused by the manufacturing and driving of automobiles. I’ve never timed myself, but I guess I ramble on long enough that whoever asks in the first place no longer cares. I’m normally left with…

Scowling at the long-legged green fiend currently occupying her living room, Gaea half listens to her mother through the phone. “-it could be dangerous. I’m just asking you to think about it. Maybe you should come back home,” her mother casually suggests.  Huffing with annoyance, Gaea rolls her eyes and turns into her kitchen, “No thank you, mother. I like it here; I–”.  “You just moved in,” her mother interjects, “You don’t know enough to like anything”.  Gaea chuckles to herself, “Mother, I’m 25; I attended both undergraduate and graduate school in this area. I know plenty,” grabbing a cup from the cabinet, “How much water am I supposed to…