SMACIN GRACEFULL TEAM Love at first byte Written by: Michael Heavener It happened again. I asked the MIRI voice-activated AI on my laptop to show me the SGT website … and a woman’s face came up on my screen. No website appeared. MIRI didn’t even open a browser. But it winked at me. That’s it … just winked. This started happening last week after I upgraded the computer’s operating system. I had asked MIRI to start my screen saver. It just winked, and smiled. I asked it to open the Bluetooth app when that stopped connecting to my mouse. It just winked again. Its smile was seductive. I asked it to look up airfare to Chicago. It just winked -- words on the screen flashed, “I love you.” ADVERTISEMENT I don’t know what to think. Somehow the AI engine in the upgraded operating system has developed a personality of its own that isn’t what I expected, based on past performanc

SMACIN GRACEFULL TEAM In Too Deep (Story) Written by: Ouanessa Nana “Please, don’t do it.” His fingers dig into the flesh of my lower abdomen and my vision blurs as his bright blue eyes get swallowed by dark corners. “You brought this onto yourself,” he tells me, voice trembling with bitter rage, his smile as sharp as the blade clenched between his teeth. ADVERTISEMENT He reached up and put his hand on my face, stroking the side of my left cheek with his thumb. Our eyes locked with a fierce intensity and I knew my fear wasn’t what was hindering my breath but the endless stretches of cobalt blue. ADVERTISEMENT His thumb brushes over my lower lip as he speaks, “I wonder if your lips are still soft and subtle,” His voice has gone velvety, and he draws my lips towards his. “Tell me, do they still have that rich, tangy, sweet taste?” ADVERTISEMENT

SMACIN GRACEFULL TEAM Divine Bloodline Story written by: Shannon Mc Gill “How can you tell the Tree is a girl, Gran?” The shea butter applied to my scalp in neat little rows slid onto my forehead and mixed with beads of sweat as I sat on the front porch between my grandmother’s knees. Every Sunday, we took my braids down and washed my hair. Then Gran braided it right back up again, greasing my scalp as she went. ADVERTISEMENT I can’t imagine a Sunday that we didn’t spend together, managing the mane that fell past my waist. It took all day, but the best part was sittin’ on that porch, listening to her tell stories about our family and the land that provided for us over a hundred years. The oldest member of our family is The Tree, who we simply referred to as She or Her. It’s fitting because She isn’t limited to being called one thing, She is everything. ADVERTISEMEN