The White Space Short Story

I grasped the knob to turn it, but recoiled when I felt something slimy. Looking down, I saw a gummy red substance coated my palm. More fast food dreck…probably globs of sauce from a Big Mac. Yet some strange urge made me hold my hand to my nose and sniff.

The quote “…her actions open our eyes in a very powerful way to the fact that “democracy is not something we HAVE, it’s something we DO” means that with determination anyone can achieve any goals they have because nothing is free in this life, you have to work really hard to achieve them. First, Doris “Granny D” Haddock wasn’t an athlete. Yet at the age of 89 she manage to walk across the United States while many of us who are younger will fight for the closest parking spot on anything place just so we don’t have to walk. She was determined while most of us are simply lazy. Second, she didn’t like the corruption that was going on in politics; therefore she decided to take actions into her own hands rather than waiting on something else. Third,

The door was devilishly simple, but I knew the kind of security that I would actually be dealing with. For instance, I knew I couldn’t even touch the door without

If you were to walked passed by the building, you will see a perfectly structured building until you take a step inside, an empty pathway with the ceiling lights flickering off and on as you walked straight down the path. There are some offices that has been demolished with holes and cracks on the old washed out colored walls. There’s papers laid out around you, as seem as they were being thrown out but not enough care was given to whether if it would have been made it in the trashcan. The hallway reeks of constructions being done on top of the roof. It’s the smell of steel and coal mixed together telling you exit the building if you don’t want to smell it any

There it was, the image many people imagine in their nightmares. I could feel the cold sensation running through my veins when I looked up to view the many windows broken. As I looked up again, I think I might’ve seen something move.

White spaces trump black experience in Suzan-Lori Parks’s Topdog/Underdog and Lorraine Hansberry’s Raisin in the Sun. According to Elijah Anderson, a Yale professor specializing in black sociology, the domination and subjugation of black experiences in white spaces is a normalized practice: “White people typically avoid black space, but black people are required to navigate the white space as a condition of their experience” (Anderson 10). These aforementioned ‘white spaces’ are defined as any space that is overwhelmingly white and often feel “off limits” for black bodies (Anderson 14). No moment in either of these two plays better encapsulates the sentiment of “off limit” spaces than Lindner’s visit to the Youngers’ home in Raisin in the

At the front gate, there were weeds all over what used to be a garden. The door suddenly swung on its creaky hinges. Pitch black. You couldn’t see a thing in the cabin. Every couple of minutes shingles would fall off the roof. I was scared. Terrified. Then I heard creaking floorboards.

Imagine casually strutting down the street and you encounter this magical block where the buildings look as if they came out of different eras. That is what I encounter when I ran upon these two buildings located in Balmy Alley. The building on the left had a more rustic feel to it enough to say that you forget for a split second where you are by just taking a quick glance. The old wood steps are something you don't see often anymore. It seems like its wood has seen many rainy days, quite like today, and it is slowly losing its color. Shriveled plants now sit in old wooden planter boxes. All old and coiling around as if they are trying to hang on to dear life. Metal bars make it look less welcoming giving it more of a jail type look. Where I come from these pointy metal bars are put up for protection. Although the defined geometric shapes of the triangles and lace piping make

Old, shiny, wooden handrails are freshly polished on brass hangers leading the way to a landing, they divide the walk up. Once reaching the second floor you’re greeted with two closed doors. The doors are a brown stained oak wood with an opaque piece of frosted glass in the center of them. Shockingly, there were no indications on what door to enter; reluctant to open one I glanced down the hall to my left. I noticed a beautifully polished handcrafted oak door with the same embossed brass Image Management sign as the side of the building affixed to it. The sign was a clear indication this was the entrance to the

“Mama I don’t want to go” I said, “They are whites, what if they make fun of me for not knowing English?”

In metropolitan New York, it was a dull, old, and common day working on the second floor. A loud noise, alarming and spine chilling, shocking me out of my stiff, smooth, and comfortable chair. Smoke was rushing into my packed office, chasing me like we were in a race to survive. Everyone was struggling to breathe the dense, thick air full of debris, through their hardworking lungs. Frightened, I evacuated out of my room, towards the long, never ending staircase traumatized. While zooming down, the building was wobbling like a teeter totter and dancing around almost like a ballerina, and I was positive that the building was collapsing. Heavily breathing, I jumped out the window. Debris was filling the air like a giant pump trying to fill up

“It’s the D-O-double G,”the secret serviceman replies as Snoop Dogg walks into the office of the White house.

The big metal door was shut and I couldn't open it no matter how hard I pulled and pushed the door wouldn't budge. I was doomed.

I feel so depressed and melancholy when my daughter Whitey was in a coma because of a car accident in Indiana. I got more depressed as the days passed by. My older daughter has been taken care of her in the hospital, thinking that she was my daughter. I always hope she will be back in motion. It's was unbelievable where I came to know that my daughter Whitey was killed in an accident and buried by my friend's family by mistake. As days passed by, I felts so emotionally and mentally sad.

Walking throughout the rest of the house, I saw the small dingy bathroom with plumbing coming out of the walls with holes everywhere and scum on the water on the shower walls. Looking at the mess in the bathroom, I saw the walls covered in dried blood.