Sebastien Renard looked at himself in the mirror. A tall, ruggedly handsome, big and bulky young Black man looked back at him. He smiled to himself. He looked really good in a red silk shirt and Black silk pants. He was getting ready for church. His grandmother Cecilia was already waiting. Although they lived exactly three hundred meters from the Catholic Ch...
"Salomon, I haven't seen you at church in a long time," Sister Rosie, a curvy, dark-skinned, well-dressed, fifty-something Haitian lady said to me, as I stood guard at the door of Walmart located in the western tier of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. I smiled at her and tried to reply as politely as I could, since I was at work and have to keep up my customer...
"Samuel, I'm sorry but I'm just not interested, besides, I'm with someone else," Esther Voltaire said to me, after I confessed my feelings to her. Esther, the queen of the Haitian Adventist church of Ottawa, and the gal I've worshipped since High School. One bright Saturday morning I decided to tell her how I feel, and as you can see, the results were less t...
*** Author's Note: This story contains themes of infidelity, cuckoldry, betrayal, and corruption. Reader discretion is advised. All characters are above the age of 18. This is my first work, so criticism is welcome. I might continue the story, depending on the feedback. Do forgive any spelling errors I might have missed. Enjoy.*** ***** Samuel sat restl...
This particular Saturday morning started mundanely enough, it was Fall in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Covid scares or not, Kenneth Woodson got ready for church, like any prim and proper Seventh-Day Adventist. Born in the environs of Thunder Bay, Ontario, to a Jamaican immigrant father, Louis Woodson, and an Ojibwe First Nations mother, Janet Mason, Kenneth...
The man paused at the white stairs, ran his hands down over his worn out sports jacket, took a deep breath and then slowly walked up the steps, counting as he moved. At the ninth step he looked up and in through the open doors. Once inside the room he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. There were a few people milling about, but most wer...
Nothing quite like coming home to my lady at the end of a battle-weary day, folks. My name is Alan James Voltaire, A.J. to my friends, and I was born in the City of Cap-Haitien, Haiti, and raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec. My parents James and Marie Voltaire moved with my siblings and I to provincial Quebec in the tumultuous 1980s. I came to the City...
SUNDAY SCHOOL SPECIAL I had been drug to church today with my mother since my car was in the shop. Even though I was eighteen my mother had that stupid belief that if you are under her roof you had to go to church and even go to Sunday School. Even if you had fun all last night and you were hung over you still had to hear the world of the Lord and Lord k...
Whoever says that Church girls are boring clearly never met Mayumi "May" Yokomitsu. I must admit, the first time I met her, I honestly didn't know what to make of her. I mean, how many Asian girls do you know attend a Black Church? Path Of Hope Baptist Church, located at the heart of Vanier, Ontario, is a predominantly Black Church. The pastor, Dr. Henry Jer...
THE WELCOMING COMMITTEE I never thought I would marry a preacher, but Betty was something special. She preached, ministered, pastor-ed and kicked ass for her church, and somehow was able to keep me satisfied in the sack, which after my divorce, was something I never thought I could say about any individual. But she convinced me it may be possible to be happ...