Perceptions: A Short Story

By Pamela Olivia Brown

Khalinda has an aversion to her mother's skin color politics. A deceased relative attempts to heal generations of suffering during her visits. In the process, she teaches Khalinda to have compassion for her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Corazón Enterprises, LLC
• Release date: May 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386258568

Pamela Olivia Brown

Pamela Olivia Brown is a writer and spiritual life coach for creatives. Her work is inspired by her passion for the occult and lessons learned from working with clients. To learn more about Pamela, please visit pamelaobrown.com.

Book preview

to my ancestors—

thank you for blessing me

with jazz and science fiction.

Carol walked into her daughter’s bedroom and saw her reading Zora Neal Hurston’s Dust Tracks on a Road for the seventh time. She looked out Khalinda’s window and saw the burnt orange sky rising above the horizon fading to yellow and running into blue. Some of the light danced across the vintage portraits of Billie Holiday, Nina Simone and Bessie Smith that hung on the wall across from Khalinda’s footboard. Khalinda glanced at her mom then returned to reading. Carol admired how her daughter seemed wiser than her eleven and a half years. She felt that Khalinda’s soul lived during the Harlem Renaissance.

It’s time for your piano practice.

Just a few more pages.

It’s almost six o’clock.

Khalinda sucked her teeth and placed her book pages-down on her bed so she could stare at her mother, who was still dressed in her cream-colored linen pantsuit and Louboutin heels. Carol was rarely seen in casual clothes or without make-up. She looked at herself in Khalinda’s full-length mirror, checked her make-up and hair then followed Khalinda to the baby grand in the living room. She listened as Khalinda started with a few warm-up scales before launching into Thelonious Monk’s ‘Round Midnight. Her father had played every recorded version for her as a lullaby.

Carol leaned against the piano and Khalinda stopped abruptly.

You know I don’t like it when you watch me play.

Carol’s smile turned into