A Typical Day in the House of Henry-Kindra M. Austin

Every morning, she’d find Henry in his blue plaid pajamas, sitting at the dining table with a newspaper and half a cup of too-sweet, pale coffee. Good Henry. Since his wife had taken ill, he always made sure to keep quiet while she slept in; and he no longer bothered her for his soft scrambled…

Dead Dolly-Susan Shuman

Until the day I die, I’ll never forget them glassy, unblinking eyes. You know, I’d made that gris-gris—what you all call a Voodoo Doll— myself.  Mawmaw taught me how when I was a kid back in Bayou Lafourche.  She said that since we were direct descendants of Marie Laveau, it was our legacy.  My mama died giving birth to me, so Mamaw was…