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Tag Archives: jazz
The Pink Ribbon Blues – Part V (Conclusion)
Rick called on Lionel’s cell just as he was packing up his briefcase. It had been a long ass day filled with too many meetings about too much stuff that they had been dealing with for too long and he … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories, The Pink Ribbon Blues |
Tagged african-american, black, fiction, jazz, LGBT, women in jazz |
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The Pink Ribbon Blues – Part IV
Sonja didn’t tell her everything. She didn’t tell her about her father’s cackling. But she did tell her about the origin of the pink ribbon. She did mention Rick’s name. And she did tell her that Mickey met his late … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories, The Pink Ribbon Blues |
Tagged black, fiction, jazz, LGBT, women in jazz |
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The Pink Ribbon Blues – Part III
“Sonja! Oh my God, girl, how are you? How’s it blowing?” “It’s blowing,” she replied with a smile that Leticia could hear over the phone. “It’s good to hear from you, Sonja.” As Mickey rounded out the ballad he … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories, The Pink Ribbon Blues |
Tagged black, fiction, jazz, LGBT |
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The Pink Ribbon Blues – Part II
He stood eyes closed and let the notes wash over him as he leaned against the wall, a Diet Coke hanging from one hand. He barely allowed her to speak when she arrived. “Take it out and play something,” he … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories, The Pink Ribbon Blues |
Tagged african-american, black, fiction, jazz, LGBT, women in jazz |
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The Pink Ribbon Blues – Part I
As soon as Lionel entered the family room, tie undone, shirt untucked, beer can in hand, his eyes fell on the saxophone. It has occupied the same corner, slouched at the same unaltered angle, for the past four days. Dust … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories, The Pink Ribbon Blues |
Tagged african-american, black, fiction, jazz, LGBT, women in jazz |
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Passion Flowers – Part III
We stood in front of a shelf marked 1953. A gap sat in the middle of otherwise tightly packed volumes. He began stroking the dust from the empty space. Again, it felt as if he were stroking my skin. This … Continue reading →
Posted in Passion Flowers, Short Stories |
Tagged art, black, fiction, gay, jazz, LGBT, longing, McCarthyism, painting, The Beats |
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The Jazz Journey
In the numbing haze in which I found myself on that fateful day in June 1996 when Mom died, I managed to focus while packing for the trip to L.A. to join my family on that which was most important: … Continue reading →
Short Story: The Swing Shift
This story could be called a love letter to the Duke Ellington Orchestra. I wrote it around the time I fell head over heels for all things Ellington and started listening to his music 23 out of 24 hours in … Continue reading →
Posted in Short Stories |
Tagged african-american, black, Ellington, fiction, gay, jazz, queer, short story, Strayhorn |
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