Original Story by Lynne M. Colombe The store on the corner had only one gas pump and one option, regular unleaded. If you had a hybrid, you would be better off going inside and buying vegetable oil from the market area. Owned by an elderly Lakota man, and his sole, homosexual son, the store accepted a wide variety of payments, including EBT, but only one brand of anything. The store stocked every reservation essential: toilet paper, Pine Sol, dish soap, trash bags, Ramen Noodles, hot dogs, sliced bread, bologna, chips, packets of yeast, diapers, fresh fruit, and other sundries consumed in the life of the average Indian. The gay son was named Homer, after the town in Nebraska where his mother was from. She was enrolled over with the Winnebago, and went back to her own relatives a year after he was born. He spent summers there, at times in Sioux City, depending on where his mother was living. Mainly, he grew up around the Rosebud, a...
Native American author, fictional and academic. Thoughts, philosophies, and interpretations from a Native Lakota Sioux Woman's Perspective.