Today's Ten Word Tale: Social Media Endorses White Supremacy

Social Media Endorses White Supremacy
by Belinda Roddie

I've seen violent racist comments permitted by Facebook. Fuck you.




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

Guuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh I can't tonight, you guys. I just can't. Just so much change and decisions I didn't want to make but had to and uncertainty and aaaaagggghhhh And everything was so nicely organized and tidy, too! Life, everyone! Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.
Read more

Saturday's Storyteller: "I'll fucking kill you!"

by Belinda Roddie "I'll fucking kill you!" He's smashing his fist into tables, sending splinters into the air. He's searching for the girl with bushy eyebrows and short hair. He's looking for the "she-man." "I'll kill you!" She stands there quietly, calmly. One hand clasping the porcelain wrist. The girlfriend shakes but holds on tight. Her fingers stroke the leather jacket. "I'll - " He stops with a hole in his chest. He drops. Dust clears. All calm. An old cowboy lowers a hidden handgun. Skeletal shells hollow on the floor. He lets the smoke rile the tips of his wispy beard. There is quiet in the bar. Quiet down the street. Quiet for the girl holding her love against her shoulder. The girl who wants to be a man holds her back. The cowboy tips his hat and calls her, "Sir." A very polite smile. He lets them walk out quietly, somberly. Their footprints do not track the blood. The sirens begin ...
Read more

Saturday's Storyteller: "The raindrops glistened on her eyelashes as we danced."

by Belinda Roddie The raindrops glistened on her eyelashes as we danced. The rain was heavy, and it was cold. It made the grass clump against our shoes and the gray pavement a slick, oily black. It made nearby cars shine and lamp lights glitter with dozens of metallic stars. "Twirl for me, sugar," she murmured in my ear as she pulled herself into me. I twirled for her. "That's a good girl." When we were done dancing, we went outside and took off our wet coats, and we settled into wooden chairs before she put a kettle on the stove. The kitchen smelled like rain and tea leaves and salt. I never knew salt had a distinct odor until now. I breathed it in, and I was by the sea hundreds of miles away. "Do you dance in the rain often?" I asked her. "Not often. I could get sick." "It's very cinematic of you." "Oh?" "Romantic. People dancing in the rain. Kissing in the rain." "Have we kissed yet?...
Read more