Tale 215 ~B For Virgil’s Freedom~

While I’m listening to my son’s playlist, “Love Is A Long Road.” What about loss or living? There’s also something called Acceptance… No, it’s not happening! There is a term I have been hearing. Freedom… from what, for what? “B For Virgil’s Freedom.”

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Tale 215 ~B For Virgil’s Freedom~

1096 Days Without B III, Day 537 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I mean, today is only just beginning, and yesterday… Is this what they call ACCEPTANCE?

Three years and counting. And I should have done more B. I know. But wasn’t that the whole point? If I had listened to you that Wednesday. I could have scrapped the Day Job that Thursday. And Friday? You weren’t dead yet. But they said you were on your way. And as I posted yesterday about you, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” You were my savior.

How many pop culture references is that, by the way…? “When You Were Young?” “Send “Me On My Way.” And religious wise? I didn’t pray.

But that brings me to hearing your voice today and the first song I did hear today, Little B. Songbird…

While I was thinking about you, wherever you are, even if I’m stuck here crying over you. B, let me say… “And I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.”

I think I finally understand that dream I had a couple of weeks back. You know, the one when you were a seagull. And you were eating some book I wrote. I wondered why you would be a seagull when there are so many birds in the world. Seagulls are known for making noise but not singing. They are also known for eating garbage. So yeah, you eating something I wrote. But why? Well, considering my slogging through pages, Braxton. It’s all garbage. Free garbage.

You’re not free to leave it yet, Braxton. I was trying to explain to your Aunt how I repeat the same routine year after year. I haven’t let you go. And I won’t be doing that. And here I go, crying again. Anyway. Like in life, you didn’t feel free to leave me. My selfishness. Braxton, you hang out, having to take the garbage your Daddy continues to spew forth.

And is that why V cries? He’s at least the color of a seagull. But it’s as if he isn’t free to be himself because, for the 537 days since he arrived, he only gets the scraps of “love. B.

Oh, what would it take to be free? All of us? It won’t be today. The 4th, 10th, 13th, 14th etc. B For Virgil’s Freedom

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

The last good thing that I’ve done. Define good? Being a father is good. I was/am Braxton’s father. A lot of good That did him. I fed Virgil and washed Braxton’s rug. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Braxton was/is good. “Remember, Do Good, Die Great”

Monday, January 29, 2024

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this one… In the spirit of transparency, I heard this rule from a kid long ago.

And not my kid. My little boy. My Braxton. He lived up to this rule and then some. B III.

Say his name! Braxton Barks Bradford. Yes, Dear Madam, I am here. Now or will be quite shortly. Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. For you, it’s Monday, January 29, 2024. But for me, it’s Friday, January 29, 2021. I may have stolen today’s rule. But I wrote a lie.

Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus, “My Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure.” B III.

What I should have said is this: “My son Braxton is dying of kidney failure.” And on that Friday, I sat on my hide, much like I’m doing today, and I did nothing! Do Good?

No, Madam, I MESSED Up!

Braxton did good! Braxton died great! That little boy of mine fought to his very last breath, and why? He wanted every single second. But why? For me? His old man. B did good because I promised him. One day, I would be great! And if I did that very thing, my Braxton. I look at the yard that he once protected. The gate is falling apart. Like him?

I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to try and be good or plan on dying great. Not me! Bullets, Boobies, and Boys. His last year alive, I was excited. Me and Braxton’s apocalypse.

He saw me through 2020 and then the start of the new year… Death. He did good one last time. ALIVE!

And how do I repay him? While I’m all Dawn of the Dead, let me tell you something, Madam Justice.

“I realize there are some things worse than death, and one of them is sitting here waiting to die.” Kenneth

And that explains the dreams I’ve been having lately. I’ve dreamt about how Joe wanted to burn Mallard down (The Mill). Jules says, “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd” (Pulp Fiction). And how Bing, at the very least, tried to tell the truth (Fifteen Million Merits.) Even from the grave… a box on the nightstand, my little boy, my soul, Braxton does good.

I told his Aunt that. And I’ve figured it out. I read books and watch shows. I sing “I Have A Dream.” I feed Virgil, calling myself a friend. What does Braxton want? Live Daddy! Remember, Do Good, Die Great

1093 Days Without B III, Day 534 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 210 ~B Free Before Virgil~

The last freedoms I gave my son… Freedom from food deprivation as he starved himself. Freedom from his fool of a father. And the freedom from fighting one more day even as he looked at me begging to stay. No, his daddy’s a slave. B Free Before Virgil

Saturday, January 27, 2024

Tale 210 ~B Free Before Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… I said that three years ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Yet things have changed. Not war! “War, War Never Changes.” I had to quote, “Fallout?” Anyway, what would I know about war? “It’s no surprise to me; I am my own worst enemy,” as the song goes. But about the things that have changed from the time of B III.

Three years ago… 2021, Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

The crime I feared I had committed was nothing compared to what I was doing at that moment. Braxton was dying and besides fear… There was anger, rage. My INDIFFERENCE!

Last year… um, 2023, Saga 210 ~Mediums B, V, Granddaddy~

Hell! I wasn’t any better as I had forgotten about Braxton in his hour of need. My exhaustion and, again, INDIFFERENCE made me forget Virgil.

To be free of my boys. To be free of myself. If I was going to “Do It!” You know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. Let me sing, “Feeling super, super, super suicidal.” Though, to be honest. This morning, I didn’t even need the alarm. I downed an energy shot first thing as well. So there goes the alarm-canceling nap I indulge in. Ok. To have such freedom, ha-ha. Speaking of freedom, “mine” lasted from Monday, February 1, 2021, to Saturday, August 13, 2022. What a way to put Braxton’s passing and Virgil’s arrival. 1091 days and 532 days, respectively.

Freedom is something I hear about nonstop these days. And those who say it have no idea of its true meaning. Like I do, Lunalesca?

Was I free on Thursday, January 27, 2022 Lunalesca? Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~. I’ve avoided talking about that year for the most part because it was the first year without Braxton, or nearly. Freedom not to care. People are slaves to everything Lunalesca. Somehow, it’s liberating, an exercise in freedom, to choose who, what, or why we serve. Like I haven’t given you enough pop culture today… “A man chooses, a slave obeys.” Lunalesca, “In serving each other, we become free.” And that was my life with Braxton. As much as I felt Fear, Fury… um another F was nothing because of fatherhood. Lunalesca, Braxton came first. Without him, freedom’s a word. Fear, obsession, pain, sadness, I’m a slave. B Free Before Virgil.

1091 Days Without B III, Day 532 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

The first time I saw 2V, I imagined seeing some of B III in him. The brown around his eyes, three black spots (B III), him being a “ghost” or “reincarnation.” But the doctor said I’m not blind yet. And I’m reading about who I was. Virgil B Seeing You

Friday, January 26, 2024

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… No, I haven’t finished reading Red Rising yet. I need to start on Imogen Linn’s Epiphany.

But this week and next are all about my son’s passing. A fictional tale? By calling it B’s passing, sure. My Braxton’s murder, execution. The word I’m looking for… Euthanasia.

And speaking of “medical procedures,” I went to the eye doctor yesterday. Uh, talk about a change of pace. Or me trying to be positive. As the doctor said, the change in my eyesight was minuscule. There was no need for new glasses. I’m only getting older at 39. And there goes my positivity. But this week was not meant for “joy-joy” feelings. And next week? I get to see the world continue to go to Hell. And without my son B III protecting me.

And then there is Gospel 209 ~Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~.

Tuesday, January 26, 2021, I still had no idea of Braxton’s fate. But it’s creepy, coincidental, or at least enough to convince me that B III is Somewhere Out There. “Somewhere Only We Know.” Because, once again, Sophia, I doubt I will ever see Heaven. And I can’t imagine Braxton in Hell. B III liked being very warm, for sure. A spot by the fire…

It’s not my turn! Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

Thursday, January 26, 2023, I told Braxton about his great-grandfather, who had passed. I’m surprised; I didn’t ask him to stay far away. I could tell you a story of a puppy that died bloody in my arms. My granddaddy’s dog attacked him. That’s some more sadness for another day.

Maybe? If I ever get around to finally publishing the two books I wrote about Braxton. And before that, there’s Gulp. And what about today? I’m talking to you and all the other girls as I prepare to spend next week crying. Don’t let me forget about Satan’s Sorority Girls 4, Sophia. There is plenty of writing to do. I will never forget the worst day of my existence like this. All I did was prepare more words. Braxton’s Emergency, Euthanasia, Eulogy… B’s E-Day is the day he died. My E-Day is my birth, Emergence, Existence, Extinction… Only I don’t see that last part coming. Again, the eye doctor said my sight was fine. I can see everything: everything but my son Braxton, alive. There’s Virgil. Virgil, B Seeing You.

1090 Days Without B III, Day 531 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

Sad as the world is, I still talk to my dead furry son Braxton because he beats everybody still walking around. Not that I can say I am any better. I only wished I’d talked to him more. Before the Thursday, he really got sick. Will B Talking, Virgil.

Thursday, January 25, 2024

Tale 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

1089 Days Without B III, Day 530 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Will I have a good day? Considering it’s 5:30 AM and the flashbacks have started.

Three years ago… Monday, January 25, 2021, Gospel 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~. I was scared for you. Of course, it wasn’t all about you, and it should’ve been. Only, did you know? I was busy crying about stuff I had done. I had no idea that “There Are Worse Things I Could Do.” Like never speaking to you again. I didn’t know, Braxton.

But I know today is the last day I’ll speak to you before the three-year mark of your passing. There is something about that number, like fifteen, thirty-nine, and whatever is in the bank now.

Not that it matters this week. But I wish I’d planned better. “Even if you knew what to do, you wouldn’t know what to do.”

How do you talk to a dead man? A child? Because that is what you’ll always be to me, B. My child, my son, and my little prince. And all the times I would tell you that you would be as tall as a king one day. Yep, and I sent you straight to Heaven. Only I didn’t tell you that’s where you were going. I didn’t know how to talk to you that week. Hell! According to my own words, that week, I was speaking to Madam Justice on the Thursday before the week began. And I posted on Sunday, January 24, 2021. But let’s not get bogged down in the numbers. As the song goes, say what you need to say. So what?

I know with utmost certainty that Virgil is not you reincarnated. And you’re no zombie. And even if you were, and with my appointment with the eye doctor, I’d never see it, Braxton. So I wouldn’t be able to put you down. Did I really say that? You were breathing.

Braxton, you were alive, if not well. And there is paperwork showing I did that. And why was that again? Um, I am your father… I need to shut up. There are plenty of reasons to. Because I don’t want to say goodbye? I’m sorry, isn’t going to fix anything. To prove I’m not crazy…

Wednesday, January 31, 2024, we’ll be closer than ever, and the day after that, B III. Will B Talking, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

My head is too big for a crown. Hell! The last thing I had on my head, besides a hood, pillow, or blanket, was a Christmas hat. B’s looking down on me from wherever. Or up as I’m going to Hell. For his death or waiting. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them

Monday, January 22, 2024

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Even death? Are we talking about Satan’s Sorority Girls? What about a zombie apocalypse? A halo, horns…

You’ll have to excuse me for bringing up Satan’s Sorority Girls yet again. First of all, I’m time-traveling. Today is Friday, January 19, 2024. So, I was talking to Lady Sophia this morning. And every day, we move closer to the day Braxton got his halo and wings. I hope he went for the horns if he ever intends to see me again. I’m going to Hell, Madam. Gospel 205 ~ Will’s The Breast Starer~. Talk about something in my head or face (Sigh). No. I’m going to Hell because of what I did to my son. Now, where did I put my executioner’s hood? I am a man of many hats and masks. And I wish for some crown. Inevitably, why’d I want it?

I wanted a crown to have a queen or a princess by my side one day. I thought. Madam, I wanted a crown. So I could raise the little prince that was/is my Braxton. I wanted to “Take The World” for him. I saw this video the other day about what a mother would do for her child. A “Dog Mom” said she would watch the world burn for her fur baby. As a Dad… once upon a time. I haven’t been for three years. It’s coming up soon. Anyway, the things I could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve done for my son, but for a crown. My Braxton was/is good, and so he deserved his. Braxton earned his. My little boy. Me, on the other hand…

Hell! I have another rule that addresses this, Madam: Rule#13, Power Is All That Matters.

And me being underneath my hood or hiding under the blankets isn’t wearing a crown. Putting a jimmy hat on the other head… Uh, like, have I needed one of those since 2015? My confession.

My head isn’t getting any bigger with all the “knowledge” I’m gaining with these books.

And while I live in a “castle,” it’s paid for by my Olds. Does it look like I have any crowns to pay for anything? If the world isn’t comprised of empty-headed zombies. It’s people who make themselves kings and queens over me. Or I give them such power. And Braxton’s looking down ashamed. No halo, horns, but hoodies galore. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them.

1086 Days Without B III, Day 527 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 203 ~That’ll B Morning, Virgil~

A message from Braxton… When I got up today, the first song was Here Comes The Sun (Nina Simone). V and I haven’t been fans of going outside. He could use a jacket. And I could use my cuddly firstborn. Here comes the son. “That’ll B Morning, Virgil.”

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Tale 203 ~That’ll B Morning, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Which means I should have some company logo. Whatever happened to the SCC? Second Circle Creations.

Most mornings begin with Triple B. Of course, I mean my son. But there are also books and boobs in trying to keep a great attitude. I finished Eric Vall’s “Satan’s Sorority Girls 4,” Lunalesca.

Though I am surprised, Grayson didn’t get another girl. I thought Fiona or Chrissy for sure. But that’s more a discussion for Lady Sophia. Books and boobs… Why not both? Plus, it’s Saturday. This means I can talk about whatever I want. So how about some R and R. Oh and R as comedy comes in threes? Regret, rest, and reason. I knew I would regret staying up late last night, which explains why I’m late speaking this fine Saturday morning. Hell! I missed Smackdown yesterday as the days blend together. Braxton’s Last Month, Lunalesca.

As far as rest and reason. I’ve recorded two naps with Balance already. And do I feel any more rested, Lunalesca? I’ll add to the regret list my lack of money and needing energy shots. Now, when we look at reason… This week, I’ve been looking back at the “man” I was in 2021. Gospel 203 ~We Will Go Home~. On this day three years ago, I was still terrified. Only I had Braxton. Take all of my fears, Lady Lunalesca. I didn’t want to leave my boy for anything. Little did I know, right? And last year, Saga 203 ~Virgil Has Words B~ huh.

Virgil and I still aren’t talking. Did I even tell him Good Morning? Though he’s been staring out the window.

There is nothing out there. Well, my boy. I don’t want to think the end of him is sitting in a box on the nightstand, Lunalesca. But while I looked over the books and saw how little I have to spend… Again, I need a burger, fries, barbecue. And a few dog movies. There’s also the movie Spontaneous. So I know what I’m doing on the 31st. But what about all the mornings before then if I keep going on like this? Yesterday, I checked the gun drawer. And I said it was only because of all these strangers in the house. I hate waking up early for people. But there was Braxton and now Virgil. Waking up sucks. Existence… Sigh. That’ll B Morning, Virgil

1084 Days Without B III, Day 525 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

The things I need to read… A grocery list? How do you convince Olds to keep paying for a thirty-nine-year-old son? What to do when your fur baby has been dead for three years? No titles like those or reviews. But I wish. “Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes”

Friday, January 19, 2024

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Sister Christian? Uh, that’s in Satan’s Sorority Girls 4. Demon In Me? W.I.T.C.H. Clint Eastwood? Gaming…

Add a bunch of pretty, pretty girls, and you have this morning. “My” story. Lady Sophia, I could finish reading Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 if you give me a few minutes. But today isn’t about that. And as the month drags on, it’s harder for me to stay positive. Hmm.

I shouldn’t say, “Things That Make You Go Hmmmm…” We both know why Sophia. B III. It’s why today I wish I was reading something on grieving. Instead, it’s sexy witches and then Red Rising. Do you think I can finish that in a week? The smart money’s on me reading another in the Princess Tamer series by Neil Bimbeau. Yaboos make everything better, right? Or so I wish. Not losing my best friend, brother-in-arms, my son Braxton Barks Bradford.

Speaking of money and books, I could be reading. I should read about balancing budgets.

As long as I have enough for a burger and fries. And there should be ribs for dinner, Sophia. You know me… AHEM… TRADITION. I wish I didn’t have to read about this one, though. Around this time in 2021, I was scared, Sophia. Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~. And last year, 2023, I was sick like a dog, Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~. I swore I would quit going to Jack’s. Do you remember the night I went to see The Book of Clarence? Again, I need to check the books… as in cash. I wish I were reading about my movie nights and Braxton getting pissy.

Unless they involve sitting on the couch with his Aunt reading subtitles. Our bad hearing.

Oh yeah! Before I forget, Sophia, I’m not congested anymore. My ear, though… I swear. And yes, I am sniffling, but I’ve been crying plenty this week. One more reason I’ve been reading Eric Vall and Neil Bimbeau books. I don’t need to get the tablet all wet, you know. There was that time, though, when I was all about Cherry and filmed myself… never mind. The thing is, Sophia. I couldn’t think about writing a review today except on existence. Braxton might still exist if I read about controlling my anger or handling indifference. Instead, I’m reading about missing Braxton. I wish he were here. Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes

1083 Days Without B III, Day 524 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

How long have I had my Day Job? It’s close to how long I had B III. One thing he and V share. Both hated me leaving. Two things. I stopped sharing my day with B and V. Three, telling them there’d be a better life and world. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

1082 Days Without B III, Day 523 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you having a good week? The last two? Incoming. Time Travel is a pain.

First, there’s this fact. I’m talking to you on Sunday, January 14, 2024. And no worries, I’ve already got the 31st and 1st off. Not that you want me crying for two days straight. Honestly, Braxton, I need the fluid. But I don’t know if I’ll still be sick when you see this. Braxton, I know that was a horrible choice of words. I didn’t know what was happening in your little body this day 2021. It was giving its two-week notice of leaving. Apparently, hmm. And I should have done something, anything. But as for me, it was Gospel 201, “Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken.” One of your rules, Braxton. It was one of your last lessons, and I thank you for them all.

But when you needed me to listen to you… I’m going to be saying that a lot. Hell! I hate listening to myself. All last week, I refused to listen to my body. And what about “my” bank account? I’m making today harder by not recovering in bed and looking up the past. How does one say, “Happy Death Day?” And giving an actual two-week notice, Braxton? There’s a reason I’m at the Day Job sick… I can’t afford to stop working. Again, that’s a terrible choice of words, considering next to my indifference. Working so hard. THEY killed you—the Day Job; my existence there. We’ve talked about the RAGE. But my FEAR. That’s something I was feeling way back then, as well. Always…

Only today can we talk about something better. That’s the thing, B. Two weeks notice. It’s what I didn’t have back then. And if I had known. Aren’t I supposed to be on a positive kick? Sounding off about this month? Being sick? Seeing my son die. It seems silly to pretend that everything is normal. That we gon’ be alright. Do you remember every day I’d tell people that it’s another day? Rage, Fear, and Indifference. But B III. There were never two weeks left to love. Always and forever. Braxton, I’d never leave that behind. Being your Dad, Braxton is a job I’ll never quit. Ever. But the guilt, the grief, the furry guy on the floor, little Virgil. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

To be an orator, writer, and man like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., He knew what it’s like to be hated. As long as my boys like me. Braxton is love. Virgil? Then, B’s Aunt. And some women, and well, I’m broke. May Races, Species Share Thought

Monday, January 15, 2024

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… At least human ones are. Hell! I learned more from my furry son than any human alive.

Well, that’s a STUPID thing to say. Look at me channeling my Old Man or this gray Friday afternoon. Tim Travel. And I’m sick too. Can’t I die already and join my little boy? Sigh.

Again, that’s something STUPID. Plus, it’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday. And what am I, as a black man, doing with Friday and Monday? Seeing as you’ll see this Monday. Never a good day…

Yep, I’m at the Day Job. Either working under the sexy visual lady. Don’t I wish… Stop It! Madam, I’m trying to be positive. So I might be in the backroom working alone. Hmm? Now, that’s one thing Virgil and I have in common. Sleeping and MJ’s “Leave Me Alone.” I relate to my boys.

But then there’s “my” people. I remember when I was young… Have I mentioned how much I hate thirty-nine? Stay positive! Believe me. I’m trying, Madam. So, as a child, my Ma touted my “Quietest” award. That certainly doesn’t sound that “Black” to me, ha-ha.

And while mentioning a stereotype, what about all the “interesting” people on Twitter? And no, I don’t mean the blog, WOKE, and being a good friend account. Oh no! There’s the account where I listen to what “men” say about women and “freaking” nod. There are accounts where girls… women… models call you all kinds of things. But everyone is thinking the same thing—the best way to get that green. Talk about black men and white men, women all around. Such are some desires.

As the song goes, “You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals.” But is that worse than everything else that separates people? From one of my top five favorite books, I’d like to quote Andrew Davidson. “I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” I Hate Everyone. If only I could find it in myself to hate the characters I write about and bring them to life.

Then I wouldn’t be working on MLK’s Birthday when I would instead do something else. I can never forget January 2021. It was the Day Job killing Braxton. It was more like my indifference to my son because I hate the Day Job, Madam. Passionately. I’m sure everyone feels that way about me. Be positive. How do I know? People are good. My Braxton was/is. May Races, Species Share Thought

1079 Days Without B III, Day 520 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will