Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

by Elise Bryant

I mean, it’s not like I’m the only Black person here, but the crowd is “diverse” in the way that woke white kids think of diverse. Just a few of people of color sprinkled around the room, the only-the-lonelys in their friend groups. Like the cilantro in the white rice at Chipotle, you know what I’m saying? That rice is freaking delicious, but I’m not trying to live in it.

“Well, Delilah. I don’t know you very well yet, but I’m pretty sure you deserve all the somethings.”

Their opinions are like seeds planted in my mind that grow into something ugly and invasive and permanent, stealing all the space and light.