Author: nazar Muhammad

I found a biker digging a grave behind the women’s shelter where I worked security. It was 3:00 in the…

The little girl wouldn’t let go. Not when strangers told her to move. Not when police tried to gently pull…

Thirty motorcycles were parked in my driveway the morning I planned to leave my husband. I didn’t know any of…

Looking back now, I’m ashamed of it. But at the time, I was scared of them. Really scared. They lived…

My son came home wearing a leather jacket from a biker, and I nearly collapsed in the kitchen doorway. He…

I got fired from my job at Morrison’s Cafe for giving a free coffee to a biker and refusing to…

The preacher stopped mid-sentence when the sound of motorcycles filled the parking lot. One after another, engines cut off. The…

I used to think my father was ruining my weekends. Every Saturday morning, while my friends slept in, played video…

I spent fifty-two years avoiding children. Never wanted them. Never planned for them. Never even held one. My life was…

The first time I saw Marcus Thompson after my son’s funeral, I spit at his feet. He stood on my…