My last name is Stephenson. It’s probably a slave name. Or the name my ancestors adopted in order to adapt to their surroundings. I don’t hate my last name, I question it. Who is it? Who am I, really? I remember back in Uni a black girl sitting next to...

For a while, anytime I thought back to happier times you were there. Locked in my memory. This phenomena was so recurrent I convinced myself that you were the happiest time I had ever and would ever experience. I never allowed myself to feel anger towards you and in doing...