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For the first time I wonder if I have gone too far, overlooking too many potential danger signs in this landlord/tenant relationship, and maybe I should ask for my money back, take the lease form from the wife’s hands where it is lying and tear it into pieces, but then I decide that I am as worthy of two walls of windows and a murphy bed on swiss avenue as anyone else.
By Pat Ellis TaylorJanuary 1982Georgia’s richest county’s finest housing project, the Berkeley Flatlands, evenly spaced mailboxes
By Our ReadersApril 1981Tchad, in the front seat, turned to me in the back, waved his arms expansively and yelled above the traffic noise, “Tell us again how your grandmother barks like a dog, Linne! Tell it again!”
By Linne GravestockAugust 1980I arrive late, as usual, paper ends flapping from my briefcase, crumbs clinging to my coat after a crackers-and-cheese lunch between stoplights. Picking my way across the muddy yard from my parking place in a tow-away zone, I glance at the glassed-in central staircase of the high school to check the time.
By Carol HoppeAugust 1980Yanceyville is a quiet town of 1,300. The tobacco barns give out just before the new high school and junior high; from the schools you can see the courthouse at the center of town.
By Barry JacobsOctober 1977The destruction of the liberal, moderate left, both black and white, has brought apartheid to its logical conclusion, the polarization of the races. Each color is increasingly influenced by the voice of extremism. South Africa is now poised on the brink of guerilla war.
By William GaitherSeptember 1977Following through on an attempt to understand white South Africa’s control and manipulation of the Black/Colored/Asian majority is a journey that invokes a logical progression of disbelief sliding to horror, then, finally, a half step beyond to revulsion.
By William GaitherJuly 1977Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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