by Zuri McWhorter

On one end of the block were the food vendors. Surrounded by jerk chicken, grilled corn cobs, oxtail, meat pies, mac and cheese, I unconsciously spent $15 on meal tickets. Though, when I walked around again to check prices, I noticed my tragic defeat: a jerk chicken combo was 19 tickets, and my $15 had only bought me 18 tickets. With stank face and all, I ordered mac and cheese and a meat pie.

by Zuri McWhorter

The seventh summer breeze scattered magnolia petals around Queen’s perfectly primed bun. She wore a pretty periwinkle dress and peep toe pumps. No make-up today, though; she wanted to be au naturel.

by Zuri McWhorter

Suzie made her way through Donors’ Court, where giant slabs of marble were carved to depict the white faces that kept the University financially afloat. She hated those cold, pompous eyes that followed her, but she always turned her Naomi Campbell on when she passed so they could watch her work.

by Zuri McWhorter

"I don't like people."
"Do you want to?"

“I would love to like people. It's just so hard to give a rational shit about irrational things."
"There's not one person you care about?"
"My dad. My mom is alright."