coiled
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coiled

Wading Through the Storm

A short story OR the first chapter of a serial fiction series — who knows?

Photo by Khoa Võ

The first night I spent in Grandma’s beach house, alone, I woke up seven times. Awakenings one through six mirrored each other, each gripping my T-shirt and shaking my body, screaming that reality, in its thick solemnity, wasn’t real.

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Nia Simone McLeod

Nia Simone McLeod

Freelance writer covering pop culture, creativity, race + other fun stuff | she/her | Subscribe to my newsletter: https://ohwrite.substack.com/welcome