Black Jesus and Other Superheroes: Stories by Venita Blackburn:
They were minutes from the dorm, and Arlene wasn’t stopping. The dorm facilities occupied the upper two floors, of a square, rose-pink lunch box of a building that wore the adobe style façade like a too-big sombrero. Tonight the pink faded to a cornflower blue in the dark. Arlene tugged Regina all the way through the security gate, up the stairs and as soon as they were both inside their room, Arlene snatched off her wig and flung it behind her as if the wig was what she’d been pissed off at the whole time. Damn wigs. She aimed for her bed, but it landed on the lamp. The lamp’s bulb had been on for hours and was hot as the freckles that glowed on Arlene’s face.