“In the beginning there was laughter, but inside the laughter there was so much sorrow. Sorrow has bloated and filled me up. My insides are puffy, my tummy swollen like a watermelon. This is an angry sorrow. A sorrow that wants to be free, that demands to be told. But to whom do I tell it?”


From the short story “What the Periwinkle Remembers” by Marcia Douglas. This story is in whispers from the cotton tree root. Compiled by Nalo Hopkinson.