Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

This existence is filmed in front of a live studio audience. Though I’m not a Nikki Haley, I should be canceled. But somebody has to tell B III’s story. And Virgil’s not pretending to be him. And who the Hell am I supposed to be? V’s Story, B Actors.

Friday, December 29, 2023

Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Will I be playing the part of a writer? I can pretend to be a man…

I don’t know what I am now in the story, this existence, and/or the journey as I tell everyone. As if I’m still in school. Lady Sophia, I’m here. Present! I’m still breathing. And I’m trying not to burst into Sia’s “Alive.” Otherwise, how will I hear the workers in the house? It’s not mine, of course, but The Olds. Thirty-nine-years-old, playing the part. Sophia, I wish someone would give me a damn script so I could know what comes next for Virgil and me. And what about Braxton? Would I forget my little B III? No, not ever. Talk about how to play the part. Except he wasn’t. No, not at all. It gets me thinking about that Will Smith movie, Lady Sophia. Sigh…

“Collateral Beauty.” No, I won’t give a review of it today. But two things, for the record. I didn’t like it, but you will never hear me speak ill of Will. Seriously, Lady Sophia. Um, “Big Willie Style?” I was still in school. And talk about musical longevity. Pop Culture. This reminds me that I won’t finish the Kindle Challenge by the end of the year. You know, with my Christmas Erotica tradition. For some reason, I want to do a REAL review for “His Christmas Harem: The Complete Series” by Manus Dare. And I owe you one for “Wanna Scrooge” by L. Nicole. Ah! To pretend my voice on anything matters. Uh, B, V? They didn’t pretend to love me. As for myself. Critic…

“Wanna Scrooge” Rather Than Scrooged

The answer is yes. However, this was quick, even for a novella. But I can’t complain about that. What I will complain about is the whole… SPOILER ALERT: the would be farmhand is a rich man, “Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum.” Anyway, Drew and Holly were excellent. And it’s been a while since seeing something with a gigolo angle. Drew’s isn’t. It’s not my first dive into A Flirty Dirty Christmas series. But it’s a welcome addition. If you’re into cowboys and wealthy men and want to F the Law at Christmas time. Try this book.

I wish I could behave more positively in my existence. Fake it till you make it, right? The End? There’s V. V’s Story, B Actors

1062 Days Without B III, Day 503 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” The perfect bible verse? But I remained silent at my Olds as did V. And B? I’m always listening for him. But do I fear the noise or silence more? B Noisy, V’s Silent

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

1061 Days Without B III, Day 502 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for me? I’m doing a Nikki Haley impression and remaining silent on what’s real.

The noise in this world, I swear. It was the first thing I heard about… Well, after shutting off the alarms and taking a twenty-minute nap, of course. After that, it was dropping my tablet as I finished another Christmas Erotica. There were the beeps and boops of a game.

And, oh yes, I’m checking on my account. I’d never let you starve, Braxton. But you know what I want to say… “You did that to yourself.” Which is why I’m crying right now. B. Anyway, I won’t let Virgil starve. But from the looks of what I made last week. Yeah, I’m not in the mood to eat anyway. One more noise to add to everything else. A rumbling stomach, draining bank account, uh…

A pounding head. Gross! But I do mean “my” brain. Hell! All those fans were blowing, sucking, um drying, I don’t know, whatever. They were taking on water and barely keeping all my fears at bay. And now that they’re gone. The silence Braxton… Deafening.

Again, I am reminded of you. Your bark, your breathing, the beating of your heart. The background noise of my existence. And that was the problem—my indifference to it. Virgil’s been trying. Or at least he was very cuddly last night, and I ended up pushing him away. Suppose you’re waiting to hear my excuse. Well, you’ve listened to my words the past few days. Ok, Sorry, Please, Thank You. Noises I rather you not hear. And my breathing.

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” ― 1 Corinthians 13:13

I’ll replace one F with another. FEAR. I hear that more than anything else. B III. And it can be so loud one moment and deathly silent the next. It’s everything. Too much! It’s overflowing. Fear is the silence while waiting for the phone to ring. And then the voice on the other end. Hmm. It’s the sound of ice on the car and then the engine. Hell! It’s driving in the sun, my son. Fear is the deafness in my ear one morning and then running water. And the fact that turning on the faucet is now yet another crime that I have to answer for at some point. Fire or ice? Noise or silence? You know what I choose. B Noisy, V’s Silent

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

I’ve mentioned I love the DEAD. My little B III, the guys that decorate the money… uh, what money? And the ones that get to lie there and do nothing. Is it the fact they all leave me alone? But V shouldn’t be by himself. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But that’s like saying water’s wet. How about tears, Christmas Day, or the bedsheets? I’m a creep… freak.

Whatever I am, I’m alone. But before I become the selfish so-and-so I always am, what about my son, my B? Wherever he is, I hope he found “A Quiet Place…” You know what I mean, Echo. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or anywhere surrounded by people would be Hell. I wonder, has he found his Aunt Carolina’s fur babies, Inspector? And M Anime’s too. Sometimes, I forget the type of person I am. So anyone with two legs, four, Hell maybe more, is better than me. But at least I didn’t leave Virgil when I went to the Olds’ homestead. Inspector, being alone comes with responsibilities, expectations, and even accountability. This is why the fans are still drying the floor downstairs. And people are coming.

Not friends, the fellas, or some female acquaintance. And family? If only my Olds had left each other alone. And I’ve been crying ever since. Thirty-nine years and counting, Echo. And while I’m on the subject, yesterday counted as Virgil’s 500th day here—poor guy. There are pamphlets about how it takes fur kids 90 days to acclimate. Virgil Vivi? Well, Christmas proved it not to be true. As far as he’s concerned, I’m as new as everyone around him. If it had been Braxton, he would have turned all protector. Instead, we were both scared, and you know what I thought would solve our problem. Money, Echo. I’ve been pondering that for three days—that mean green, almighty dollar.

But at the rate I’m going, I should stick with the promise of Teen Idle: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” Because no one wants to hear someone complaining all the time. Virgil and I?

I wouldn’t have to run to my Old Man if I had money. And again these few days Inspector… I still try not to open my eyes, but yes, there are expectations. It’s as if Virgil and I would be a family when we’re more like The Truman Show. Why do you want to be my friend and all that? And I should get back to M Anime sometime. Inspector, as Wu-Tang put it, I’m trying to make a “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.” For what friends? How’s that working out? Hmm. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

1060 Days Without B III, Day 501 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Every day, I get asked, by a computer, mind you, what my mood is like. I’m always worried about something. Being thirty-nine… something always hurts. And since comedy comes in threes. I don’t know. It’s the day after Christmas. So, To B Moody Virgil.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If you didn’t believe me, you would have left already. Or is it the fans?

I’m sure I’ve sang to you before, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Can you even hear me over all of the fans? What about my boy? Every hair, tear, and speck of dust over what, 1059 Days? It’s all gone “Bye Bye Love,” life, and even a specific type of lunacy. B. But that’s not true at all. Even with this being the day after Christmas. Presents? December 25 was something to remember? Well, seeing as how I’m time-traveling here, my love. I can still call you that, right? I have your love, our family. Lives that do concern me. And I’m still writing, wailing, and waiting for my son. But I don’t blame Santa Claus.
This is all my doing, love.

What? Being in a mood? And I won’t treat you like the computer and say, Worried, Pained. And the third thing is always a toss-up. I need more than Discombobulated. Unfortunately, the only word I can think of that is better itself starts with a D. I would never include you or the children. Am I including V in that? Right now, no. So AHEM, “I am The Walking Dead.” And like any zombie, I am up and about without purpose other than to make the living miserable. My friends, enemies, everyone else… And this Christmas, I give you another; I’m sorry, and you give me forgiveness. Sucks! Now that is a mood. Just like tired, scared, horny, sad, lonely, stupid, mad, effed, insane, dead…

And the only gift in a box I wanted, I gave myself. And it doesn’t even have my name, love. Braxton. Do I want to make myself out to be Pandora? I’ve been looking at Braxton’s “grave” more and more because of what rests under the drawer beneath it. Hope? Peace? Christmas is the time for that, playing the STUPIDEST Stevie Wonder tunnage “Someday At Christmas.” But lover, this is the day after, meaning it’s time to return to normal. Tuesday, yeah, right! I can still hear the fans blowing. And even with them, I can hear how I’m letting down my family. “Give love on Christmas day. No greater gift is there than love.” To be in the mood, but… To B Moody Virgil.

1059 Days Without B III, Day 500 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

Christmas Eve, and I still believe… in Santa? Nope! But I’ll watch the NORAD Santa Tracker. It was a tradition for Braxton and I. We weren’t big on the whole Jesus thing. But we had each other. And now I’m anything but a wise man “BelieVe With B, V.”

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. After yesterday’s debacle… can’t wait until Monday. Anyway, today, I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.

Or the little drummer boy… What about a wise man? Considering Braxton was your savior, why not be the father? Joseph, not God. No Mary?

Anyway, here you are on Christmas Eve. I wish I could say that while I looked up music yesterday, it was all about Christmas. No worries. While I wasn’t in the best state of mind, you have a Christmas playlist ready to go. Ma’s Traditions, you know. Listening to Christmas music all day. I can’t say I’ve seen anything with holiday cheer. Well, short of Mary Cherry’s reaction to The Muppets Christmas Carol. Oh, what about tonight and Christmas? Music, TV, to drown out the fans… uh, it’s hard being the shepherd. Happy thoughts or like doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING “His Christmas Harem,” “Snow Help Me”
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Of course, you’ll keep reading Christmas stories… of a particular variety. You know, the kind that you can’t speak out loud to Virgil. But at the very least, you were on the couch with V. A wise man must study. But I doubt most did it from bed. No, they were far too busy following the stars in the sky. And you’re looking to the stars on the internet. Right? Speaking of which. As The Killers sang, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Christmas music, remember? Hell! When you finally decide to “c’mon get happy,” you will be old enough to be a wise man. Three old men showing up with stuff to some young girl who’s a virgin… Uh yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined Sometime This Week
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Keep trying to be the shepherd. It’s like your happy, no, good, nah, soft thoughts. Christmas thoughts. Those gentle memories keep getting picked off by wolves at every opportunity. And again, it’s Christmas Eve. You should be better than this. And what exactly does that mean here at thirty-nine? Christmas Eve morning started with tears. There’d be no need to if you didn’t believe. Maybe not in Santa, but always and forever in Little Braxton. If Santa is still around, so is your son. That’s your job. He’s your gift. You can believe this day won’t be as horrible, and Virgil will become courageous. Yeah, he’s in Braxton’s room now. Will you shepherd him, your thoughts, anything good on this Christmas? BelieVe With B, V

1057 Days Without B III, Day 498 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

Will this be a bad Christmas? My boy’s still gone. The other one has a full tummy but no special treats. No toys. Ta-tas, or a tasty breakfast with pancakes. There will be no Silent Night here, with the fans running nonstop. Virgil’s Christmas Will B

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Uh. Now more than ever, I realize what a lie that is. But, worst Christmas ever?

I don’t care to look up my past work, especially 1056 days ago. No. I stopped short, Chronicle 177 ~B In The Present~. That was my first Christmas without my son, my little B III. There will be no pancake come Monday. Or pancakes. I’ve mentioned I have no money. So there are no gifts, no tree to put them under. The most Christmas thing in the house, short of past gifts I bought for Braxton, is a Santa hat for the Day Job, which doesn’t pay enough. Lady Lunalesca, I want to cry. And not just because I can’t buy gifts for the boys. Where do I even begin? I didn’t know when I was a child, and now here at thirty-nine years old…

Lame! What am I? A teenage boy, at least. And if I were an old man, I wouldn’t want to be lame. I don’t want to be Ebenezer Scrooge, either. But “decrease the surplus population?” Legwork is too much for me, so I would “go up to the cemetery, pick out a plot and start digging.” But no Lady Lunalesca. While I was laying here trying to sleep, I what. Inevitably, I did more legwork. “She’s got legs; she knows how to use them,” Lunalesca. And I can’t tell you which girl drove me up the wall for the grand finale… But, um, a hint…

Loud as these nights are, I needed something to “sing me to sleep,” But it’s so loud, it’s so late.

Lunalesca, should I make a Christmas list? And what about Virgil? He can’t want much…

Everything I want is impossible, insane, illegal, or, if anything, inane. But here we go. LATE! I want my Braxton back, or I want to join him. And as for everyone else. No, it’s my fault. Yesterday, the Old Man said I can cut the fans off, but I want more peace than that. Hmm?

Between some woman’s legs? But look at the floor. No girl is walking in here, Lu. Not like this ever. And I have nothing for breakfast on Christmas Day. There is food but something traditional. And look at me being selfish. Again, there’s Virgil’s Christmas. Love? Comfy spots? A Good Day? Virgil’s Christmas Will B

1056 Days Without B III, Day 497 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

There are a lot of stories, but I don’t want to read any of mine. Hell! My Christmas story. Santa’s not a sorcerer… a necromancer? He’s still alive. But do I want a twist in “my” story like a Netflix or Hulu show? Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… “This is the story of how I died.” No, this isn’t the movie Tangled, but really….

Braxton, do you need a roommate? “Only God Knows Why,” I was asking that, Sophia. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been talking about it for the past week… I don’t even remember how long it’s been. 1055 Days? Of course, those are days without my son. I should still follow him. Why? The floor downstairs is a death trap. The flood, fellas, and my “father.” (Screams)! My boy’s still gone. That’s never going to change, Sophia. Does Santa know Necromancy? And let’s not forget all the “Humiliations Galore.” Um, the Day Job, PetSmart, the house.

Have I ever told you this isn’t my house? Not my HOME! But for my little boy, my B III.

There’s no lights, no Christmas tree, or holiday spirit? Virgil?

I’m sure he’s barking at something. But it couldn’t be to stop Santa from breaking into the house. Does he want to go Christmas shopping with Braxton and me? Simoleons? Don’t I still pay for streaming services and salacious books set during the holidays, dear S? I don’t have money or much time, and every day is spent trying to shuffle off the mortal coil. But I woke up. So, at least for one more day, I won’t give my Olds what they want most… Braxton sits in a box under a lamp. Me in a box beneath their tree. Sophia, I expect far too much of Santa. Hell! Son numero dos? And a sinner like me because there’s no book review today. Sorry Manus

His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare, to be specific. I’ve been getting into movies and TV shows being recapped on YouTube. Are they sent from Braxton to keep me here?

Anyway, I saw “The Mill” on Hulu a day or so ago. If that ain’t the story of this existence. Except for having a pregnant wife, I have two dogs. And with those dudes, the Day Job, and my Dad, even now I want to scream out Sophia, I QUIT!

But then what about black guys and cute brunettes… or girls with dark hair? “15,000,000 Merits” got my attention. No, it ain’t porn… Wraith Babes…

The Platform? I still have to watch it all, though.

Stay alive watching, reading… Not ruining Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

1055 Days Without B III, Day 496 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

With every step, I get closer to joining B III. And I won’t even blame him. You know who I want to blame. But doesn’t that make me a selfish, spoiled son at thirty-nine? Yet Virgil wants to join me and Braxton’s boys club. Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

1054 Days Without B III, Day 495 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were the only one I cut the BS with. Give or take your timeouts.

But I’m in no mood to even watch the sexy girls now. As the song goes, “I need you now! Do you think you can cope? You figured me out that I’m lost, and I’m hopeless.” Yes, B, it’s been a “Mad Season.” And it didn’t have to be. I could have followed you, Braxton. That’s how it always was. I had a realization about it today while being humiliated at PetSmart. Virgil Vivi has to eat. And while I’ve been fighting the urge to be with you for 1054 days. 495 of them have been keeping Virgil from following you into a box, B. Anyway, speaking of following, I hate that center aisle at Petsmart. It reminds me of your last day. Walking out…

I was a “freaking” zombie dude. You were dead, and I was “The Walking Dead.” Existence without you, Braxton… So, I figure it’s walking up that aisle that scares me. Isn’t my heart broken? It beats furiously when I’m walking up. I breathe, Braxton. Why? Because again, with the music… “You took it all, but I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!”

Braxton, it didn’t feel that way this morning. I’ve said my mornings have turned from, my son is dead, to Why is daddy still alive? Myself, your granddaddy? I had to sneak into the house, your home, mind you. So I could clean up after Virgil. Your granddad was here. Or he would be soon, and of course, coward that I am, I ran, Braxton.

Do you remember when he was here around your last year or so? All I could think was, I had to save you. And I came in, and you jumped into my arms. We stood together. I’m crying now thinking about that. Careful! I can’t get the floor wet with tears. They’re still repairing it from the last “flood.” That’s what has been the central issue these past few days.

That was me leaving Virgil here. Braxton, we were meant to fall together. Virgil though?

How do I give him a life when I don’t want my own? It’s not fair. But he tries anyway. Saturday, August 13, 2022, I heard you asking. Let him join our family, but Braxton…

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

No… Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

To whom should I send my Christmas list? A Christmas card, a letter? I haven’t even asked B’s Aunt or M Anime what they want for Christmas. Cherry wants people to buy her books. Virgil wants a better human. Braxton… who knows… “Listing Letters B, V.”

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But of course, I haven’t told Santa this. And God? We haven’t spoken since Braxton died. Miscommunication? Failure?

If I’m honest with myself, it would be sloth, simoleons, and my seething. Scummy people. And why did I fall on S today? A lack of sleep? I’m always missing my son. The Big S. But before we go into my selfishness and how people popularize words such as “Unalive.” I want to talk about my son. My Braxton, who would not stand for the mess I’m in right now. This is going to be my third Christmas without him. Some holiday huh! Only that wasn’t Santa breaking into the house yesterday—but my Old Man and my nephew Dylan. I’m telling you, I have to remember that Echo. Forgetting names and titles. Sympathy For The Devil, while I miss my little boy, Pet Angel

Not that I would call Braxton that. I remember the bag my boy came back in. The box that now sits on top of the nightstand that carries him. And I could write all the letters to Santa I want. But how do they say… “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” ha. I doubt some elves could do anything. And what do I want this Christmas, Inspector? While I was at work, I knew exactly what I wanted. But who do I write a letter to? Hmm? Do you know how to get a note to the Grim Reaper, Inspector? The Government? Inspector, I have no clue. Such is the nature of fear, fury, and friendship. Does Virgil have a Christmas list?

A better human? Should I go and take a look at the Man in the Mirror? I’ve been crying for many a reason these days. I don’t want to look at him or anyone else. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? Even now, men are on the way. What do I say? Do? Inspector, not one of them is Santa Claus. I should have let the flood take me down to its depths. To think I call drowning one of my fears. I cut Far Cry 5 off once because my character drowned. Inspector, I’ll put that on paper/on-screen, whatever. But letters to my boys, paying my own bills, or why I hate breathing… The reaper, Santa, my friends. Listing Letters B, V

1053 Days Without B III, Day 494 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will