Kenneth Bernoska

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We stood looking at each other. There seemed to be dust in the air because I couldn’t quite see her. Behind her stood my father, and he stood directly in front of Ajofia. And Ajofia was taller, too. Much taller. Bigger. It stood in the street, and it wasn’t dust that was making it hard to see—it was smoke.
Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror
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