“Hey, nigger, you about ready to die now, or you want to put that shit off until the sun look you in the eye?”
Big Smoke’s loomin over me sweatin and hackin open coconuts with his keen machete. He stoops to hand me a half a coconut full of milk. I lean back against the palm tree and try to accept the natural bowl but my hands start shakin, and the shakin ripples up my arms, across my shoulders, and my whole frame’s throbbin and bobbin.
Continue reading “The Milk of Human Kindness by Frederick K Foote”
