Thanks Sista

I get out of my car and open the truck to retrieve the first draft I want to review while at the doctor’s office. As I close it, a sister in a blue shirt and jeans walking down the street flags me down.

“Hey” she said, as I take my headphones out of my ears.  “Might wanna adjust your dress. Your whole ass was showing when you got out of the car.”  I pulled down my dress with gratitude. No one else is in the parking lot.

I love black women. We’ll tell you like it is, and help you cover your ass at the same time.

Published by Eryka

Eryka Jackson is a freelance writer and communications professional living in Memphis, Tenn. She writes creative non-fiction, speculative fiction, and poetry. Eryka holds a Masters in Applied Linguistics from Old Dominion University. She is a Certified Aromatherapist, who enjoys photography, cooking, and yoga. A true southerner, Ms. Jackson can make a pound cake and peach cobbler from scratch; has caught lightning bugs in a jar and blessed many hearts.

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