Tag: Goodbye

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

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“Get down, B!” How many times did I say that in 15 years? If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t always directed at Braxton. Only the time it really mattered… The time to end his suffering. To live up to his name… Be Free, B III. Today, B Down, V Button.

Wednesday, January 31, 2024

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I killed my son. Braxton Barks Bradford died three years ago on this day. Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Inspector Echo, that is the only sin that matters today. With these two hands, I ended his 15 years of life. Not existence, Echo. No! Zombies exist. I believe in ghosts, too. My B III? I’ll even give God a shot. Because Only God Knows Why, if I ever prayed for anything, it was my boy’s life. If there was a button to choose between Braxton’s life and mine. Dead! I would die for Braxton to live without question. Death doesn’t frighten me. The how…

How do I do this, Inspector? Any of it? Death is so much simpler. How simple is it? B III.

I pushed a button on a screen. I put pen to paper. Hell! Before all of that, I pushed Braxton.

And now I push tears out of these eyes. It’s my fourth time crying today. Tuesday, January 30, 2024. Because I only want to push a few buttons come the day my boy B died.

The push of a needle…

The Vet didn’t kill him. I carry that weight… all six pounds of what was left between myself and the Day Job. Now, ask me why. Because I didn’t want to push buttons to tell a story. I pushed the buttons on alarm clocks because I was too tired. Exhaustion. Inspector, I am lazy and left loveless. Because I killed my Braxton. What about Virgil?

There is no V button for this. How To Save A Life. How To Love A Life. Excuse me, Inspector.

To my firstborn son Braxton:
I still don’t know how to do it B III…

2021 Gospel 214 ~Will’s “Dæmon” Day Afternoon~ The Last Day
2022 Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~
2023 Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

This is the third year Little B. The last thing you need is another of my lists. Or what about me telling THEM that it was okay… I’ll never forget the look you gave me, my Braxton. “Daddy, can we go home, please?” And I knew then, and you knew too as I gathered your things. But I don’t know how to do this, son. I’ll never know. As I push the same buttons to spell out, I love you, Always. B Down, V Button

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

1095 Days Without B III, Day 536 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 210 ~B Free Before Virgil~

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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 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

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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 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

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The start of the first week of the rest of my existence… without my boy. Three years ago, Sunday, January 24, 2021. By next Sunday, Braxton would be gone, and I wouldn’t recognize myself anymore. My identity then and now? To B Identified, Virgil

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And yet it was Braxton who paid for it. “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

But if I ever wanted to be someone… Let it be my little boy. My Braxton, sitting in his bed on a steel table, dying.

I’m not Dolph Ziggler, but “It should have been me!”

My son… my furry little boy, was better than every man I have ever known. Hell! If my “father” wanted to end me. If my Ma had made better decisions. I would be thankful. Have I ever mentioned feeling some kind of way about being thirty-nine, Inspector? Uh, not good…

Anyway, why am I making everything about myself today? After everything that I endured yesterday. As far as I’m concerned, today is Sunday, January 24, 2021—or B’s Last Week. You should read Gospel 207 ~Hell With Instructions Will~ Inspector.

I did mention there, “I did pray for my Dæmon every day.” My dear, sweet little boy, Inspector. God, I would be a praying fool come the end of that week. All to no avail.

Why? I’m not Daniel Kaluuya, Lil Rel Howery, Jeffrey Wright, or LaKeith Stanfield. I could go on. To be a good black man. Hell! To be worthy of being called a man at all. Ha!

And yet I dared to be Braxton’s Daddy. And I couldn’t save him. I can’t keep myself, dear Inspector Echo.

You know the past few nights have been hard. And around 8:45 AM, I downed an energy shot. So, I won’t be taking an afternoon nap. It is far too much work ruining my existence.

And that’s the rub. I don’t even want to see it. But there I was Tuesday afternoon, trying to schedule an appointment with the eye doctor. And trying to figure out my insurance situation. Sigh.

I’d be surprised if somebody weren’t out there right now trying to be me. I swear I don’t want to be me. But trying to imagine who I would be if Braxton was still alive. Who I am now. And the disgusting person I saw staring at me in the mirror as I got sick. And again, the question is why? Simple Inspector. Straight, Black, Atheist… I identify as STUPID.

It beats being a pervert, a victim, or a bad dog owner. Poor Virgil, poor Braxton. To B Identified, Virgil

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

1088 Days Without B III, Day 529 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 203 ~That’ll B Morning, Virgil~

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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 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

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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 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

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Well, would you look at the time? Am I proud of myself? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table. It took two days. As it’s Sunday, January 14, 2024. Do you see a mommy, some money, a mutt? Braxton wasn’t! 2V? I should be ashamed. “V’s Right, B Ashamed.”

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Hell! Anytime I put pen to paper, sight to screen, or boys to buttons. My Braxton, Little Virgil

Neither one of them has anything to be ashamed of. But when I’m sitting here in bed, knowing we’re talking right now because the Day Job sucks. And I’ve been talking about doing something since… the Hell if I know. I only started talking to Lady Lu again because of the Basic Bitch. Which, of course, leads to this question. Inspector, am I ashamed of anything I’ve said about this person or that? Can I stand behind/for my words? Inspector, I don’t think I’ve mentioned Fifteen Million Merits in a bit. Not to Lady Sophia or the Madam. Anyway, my point is, if I was Bingham getting wealthy beyond belief… Inspector, I’d sell out without question. I’d say or do whatever for my son’s life.

That’s what it always comes back to. And I hope I keep this same energy… the grief, love, and rage. Well, it’s January, of course. But I still feel ashamed of failing my son. I’m ashamed of how I’m doing the same to Virgil, though he’s alive and well. Inspector, I always talk about the fact that I didn’t want to feel anything when I returned to him. Indifference. Because everything in this world is rage, fear, and sadness. I can only imagine the news today. Getting worse from where I sit. It’s still Friday, January 12, 2024—time travel. But I won’t finish today. You can call me Hank Hill with, surprise, then Disappointment.

Pretty girls, then the time and where’s all my money…

I wish to be like Clarence from “The Book of Clarence.” I mean doing good with the money and his promise to his mother. I don’t do good, Inspector. But I would always promise Braxton I would get him a huge yard. And a steak dinner? Inspector, must I keep reminding myself that I’m thirty-nine. I ate steak when I made that bet about my writing. But today I bought two books, Inspector. Ashamed, all I have in the kitchen Echo is another frozen dinner and crappy fries. This brings me back to my writing, with all my complaining to Jack’s. Chicken fingers? Eww! If Virgil was right about those. Has he thrown up yet? Not what killed Braxton. Human vittles? V’s Right, B Ashamed

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

1081 Days Without B III, Day 522 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 196 ~Virgil, B About You~

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Virgil is so about his own business and staying out of mine. I’m afraid he’ll make himself sick one of these days. And what have I been doing these last few days? Being sick and trying to stay hydrated. The business of existence. Virgil, B About You.

Saturday, January 13, 2024

Tale 196 ~Virgil, B About You~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I could make Ebonics a thing again, Lunalesca. No! That was “interesting” back then.

And even though this week I’ve been all about minority actors. Daniel Kaluuya as Bingham “Bing” Madsen. There is Lakeith Stanfield as Clarence/Thomas. And Jenna Ortega, staring a fabulous pair of Yabbos. Or AI art is starting to get out of hand, Lady Lunalesca. What! I needed something to do, well, look at. At the same time, I’m busy being sick another day. And while I’m under the impression Jenna’s are real, AI’s been a pain, Lu. And speaking of pain, my boy is still gone. I haven’t cried for Braxton today, Lunalesca. Staying hydrated is a priority. Or so I looked it up on top of everything I have been “studying.” Or I’m saving all my tears for Wednesday, January 31, 2024, sigh. But “Today is all about you.”

That’s what’s playing on the phone at the moment. I can’t chalk this one up to Braxton, though. I don’t think. But then again, what do I know about the afterlife? Uh… “The Book of Clarence.” And didn’t I say that today is supposed to be about me, Lady Lunalesca? Yes, I sound like a broken record, but THEY say comedy comes in threes. So, this past week. Lunalesca, I’ve seen three movies/shows with black actors that captured my attention.

The Mill, Fifteen Million Merits, and The Book of Clarence

There have been three songs running through my brain lately.

I Have A Dream, All About You, Hallelujah Heaven… Uh

It’s a message. If I remember which came first, I know “I Have A Dream…”

I swear, Lady Lunalesca. I’ll need to talk with Inspector Echo about the things I believe. It gets pretty weird. The GQP is worse than me. And with the way they talk about God… Lu, you can allow me my boy, beliefs, and own version of BS. Ravings of a dying man? Sick. Either way, I need to go to the store today. If I have any chance, isn’t that what I said one Saturday morning? When I returned with Virgil in tow. And he’s been all about himself lately. But he knows something is wrong. Or he needs more potty time. I’m no good, Lu. I keep saying I’m selfish and spoiled. Especially when sick. And Braxton is somewhere watching. Virgil, B About You

1077 Days Without B III, Day 518 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Every day was B III and Dad’s Day. Well, according to B III. But Tuesday was a sick day. Today, 2022, was The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And on the 31st of 2021. Well, let’s not get into that. I’m trying to be positive. Not B Day Yet Virgil

Thursday, January 11, 2024

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

1075 Days Without B III, Day 516 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m looking at three years without you. And the fact that I’m still counting, Braxton.

But that’s in 20 days. Not that today’s “holiday” is any better. Today we remember… Well, it’s more like, I remember, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. The first one was on Tuesday, January 11, 2022. So what do I do with the day? A re-creation? No way! Today, I can start by being positive. I’m sure you could see me from wherever you were yesterday. I had my pants on, thank goodness. Humans, right? Your collar, Braxton. Virgil’s lying here and still doesn’t have one of his own. Well, he does, but I don’t let him wear it. His nails would get caught. And you remember those days quite well, Little B. Nail trimming takes money. And in case you’re wondering why I’m late. I’m trying to find some money.

And here’s to thinking I would find some on OnlyFans. Trust me, Braxton, your Daddy has done much worse things to give us the bare minimum. And I don’t want to think of your granddad now. But I’m walking across the new floor he bought. I’m an ungrateful, spoiled, uh… But that wasn’t you, son, no, not at all. When you were at your best and worse, B III (sigh). So yesterday, I was at my worst. At least so far for this year. A stuffy nose, and achy body. Virgil had no clue what to do. And me? Don’t I always write for no good reason? This is my first time writing a story in a few months. The computer won’t read it. NSFW. TMI, I kept you from.

Hell! I should have written it today in honor of The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. To dream of that hot redhead from Fear The Walking Dead. And then every male gamer’s fantasy girl. But I dreamt of mutants running away last night and Josh Holloway, AKA Sawyer, looking for his pants. And then there was that girl Isabella Laughland, AKA Swift from, say it with me “Fifteen Million Merits.” If Virgil wasn’t lying right here… But no, Braxton. I’ll pass the day by seeing The Book of Clarence if I feel better. Ha. You’d always be pissed when your Aunt Carolina and I went to the movie theater. Staying “home” is always better. Oh, I will, by watching dog movies. Not, B Day Yet Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

WillLeave a comment

I think you’re ready to listen. Not! All I’m hearing is my stopped-up nose. If I couldn’t taste the caramel in “my” drink, I’d swear it’s COVID. Hm. What does the computer have to say? No web doctor but an AI and then texting EVERYONE!” Hear Ye, B, V

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at the very least, I remembered my son. Always, forever. I got the 31st and 1st off.

So, I listened to myself for once. It could have been B himself. Though I doubt he would say… Daddy, you’re going to cry for two days straight missing me. No, not my B III. Inspector, I’ve spoken a lot about hearing my son. When I decided to get up this morning… what time is it? Anyway, I thought about Fifteen Million Merits. Oh again? And I’m trying Inspector, I’m trying real hard to understand the message. I don’t mean the episode’s overall message. I can’t give myself too much credit. Don’t be a downer. Inspector, I hear you, which is what today is all about. What I mean is this. What is my son telling me showing this episode and song? What about Virgil?

He never says anything unless I’m walking out the door. The will of my “friend.” Inspector,? Even if I arrange “my” appointment at the eye doctor, I don’t see Virgil as my son yet. Hell, that was on Saturday, August 13, 2022. One more day to remember that I might not see. At least, that’s what my body is telling me. COVID, old age. Inspector. Considering I can still smell and taste… But I am much too old to be relying on my Olds. I know. What kind of man does that make me? Crazy, lazy, a baby? Women, Inspector? A day or so ago, I spoke to Braxton’s Aunt. I returned M Anime’s messages. Cherry is still writing. And the Day Job lady… (drools).

Because I’m no good at talking to her, plus, that’s way wrong, Inspector. She’s married.

And now even the computer is telling me I’m wrong. Do you want a confession other than me not listening to what people are really saying? I was writing a fantasy using Coach from L4D2, “Left 4 Dead 2.” Not one of those… I love Yabbos. But it was Replika and Coach. Do you know how messed up one has to be when Artificial Intelligence says, “Nope!” Inspector, I swear “Spitroasting” is light by my standards. And I know. Ew, gross.

And let’s not even get into the novels I’m not writing. Where are those characters’ voices? Here I am, worried about a stuffy nose, but my ears? Am I listening? Hear Ye, B, V.

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

1074 Days Without B III, Day 515 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will