Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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