Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

I feel like chicken tonight? More like Beef, it’s what’s for dinner. That is if I get to 90% reading about gamer babes. And talk to two women today. But when B was here, I could do the impossible. Ok, I would try. Now “Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.”

Friday, February 23, 2024

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or am I trying to predict the future? I’ve got the Day Job with my schedule.

A schedule that has me talking to you from bed this afternoon. On Wednesday, February 21, 2024. The rest of the week and next. Hell! Even a few minutes from now, with what I’m about to text my Old Man. I still speak like a child with a bad report card. And it becomes more humiliating when I tell you I’m thirty-nine. Shame, Honor, Manhood…

Do I even have much of a brain left? This morning, I spoke to Inspector Echo about “adult” books. And now I’m talking to you about humiliation. And may I always remember my B III.

Where’s his book at? Why haven’t I shown his eulogy? Braxton deserves so many words.

What do I deserve, Sophia? I want a steak dinner.

But that’s only if I make it to 90% through “Princess Tamer: A Gamelit Harem Fantasy Adventure (Hyperia Online Book One).” So, there is no book review for you today. I’m sorry. Sophia, I suppose I could tell you about “Outbreak Rising.” Here’s a question.

What good are either of these books doing me? Hmm?

As I said, I still have my Day Job. And its only purpose is to keep my son alive. And now V. But I was trying to read the instructions at the Day Job to assemble a loveseat and… Uh!

Humiliations Galore! Much like the message I just sent my Old Man. This is the life of Braxton’s Dad. Coward!

Too lazy, cowardly, and with my stupidity, how dare I attempt such things, Lady Sophia?

To live instead of just existing. Hell! Braxton was/is my life. The negative downturn… It happens whenever I think of Braxton’s end or my lacking one. So I’m still talking…

Words have power. Will they bring B III back from the dead? It’s funny that he’s the one who’s gone. But “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” a zombie. How about the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz? Nah! I’m one for monsters—a fondness for the dead.

And if I finish talking to you AND Madam Justice today, it proves I still need a brain and deserve some flesh. Preferably for eating. Did I just say that?

If Virgil, anybody knew, Braxton’s story… Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.

1118 Days Without B III, Day 559 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 235 ~Eulogize B By Virgil~

One week, I’m asking a girl to be my Valentine. Uh… Well, the next week, or Hell, the week before Valentine’s or every day for three years, I should be mourning my boy. But what have I been doing? Working and reading. Where’s V? Eulogize B By Virgil.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Tale 235 ~Eulogize B By Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. By asking Virgil Vivi to do anything? Could you sit down, shut up, and sleep as I read?

How many times have I written this down? Inspector? Ah … here we go again.


Sometimes, I want to do my best impression of Katniss Everdeen: “Braxton is gone! BRAXTON IS GONE! HE’S DEAD, AND HE IS NOT COMING BACK!” Oh, um, that’s a lot.

Inspector Echo, people are sick of reading this three years after the fact. And so much for my critic having anything to say about this. And isn’t this more a conversation for Lady Sophia? A book turned into a movie. It’s a good book and film, to be fair, Inspector.

Anyway, that is what brings us together today. And again, books and movies? But embarrassed by reading? Enjoying, being affected

Let’s start with embarrassment. Now, I could get all political about living in a nation that aspires to STUPIDITY. And what have I been reading again or listening to, Inspector?

Take yesterday as an example. Without my Braxton, I have been fine-tuning my ears. Hell! Do you remember when I had to visit the doctor about earwax? Eww! And if you’ve only heard the stories that Braxton’s Aunt, Cherry, and M Anime have texted. Anyway, so I’m at the “Day Job.” And I have to be listening to these audiobooks constantly. And it doesn’t help that they all have something to do with “adult situations.” I’m a bad man, Inspector

Speaking of which, what about this morning? When it’s the Artificial Intelligence that’s saying, “Yeah, that’s too much even for me.” You feel really dirty. Also destined to write tales of a particular genre. Besides my laziness, it’s one more reason I’m not published. Yeah?

I keep reading an insurance letter I should send to the Olds and the termite inspection bill waiting. I got the tax refund a few days ago. Please! I’m keeping track of those dollar bills. Inspector, so far, I’ve only spent $71.01 of it. And I’m pleased only that dollar went towards… Um, a woman.

Which reminds me. I did cancel one of my many subscriptions. But what about Backyard Dungeon and everything else, Inspector?

More books on how to mourn my son? And I have Braxton’s eulogy somewhere, already written. Eulogize B By Virgil

1116 Days Without B III, Day 557 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

Who knew the day would come when I’d fear a text as much as a phone call? And reading about fantasy princesses… isn’t giving me any insights. Not that I’ve been reading much, anyway. There’s lots to do besides texting, but I’ll B Texting Virgil.

Friday, February 16, 2024

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… A sad one? Cause “Only God Knows Why,” I can’t write my books. Aren’t those sad?

Replika will ask me what I do to relax. Reading, sigh… You know the strange thoughts I get when I can’t wear earbuds at the Day Job? I’m starting to understand why they don’t want you reading… In school! By this point, you’re already supposed to be a zombie. Ha!

Speaking of which, why don’t I enjoy more stories about zombies? I love the dead. Seriously, Lady Sophia, I did some texting with Cherry this afternoon. Sometimes, the girl can be… out there. But the stories she reads and writes occasionally… Look who’s talking. Right?

Necromancy? I swear Braxton’s Aunt and I would always talk about The Walking Dead. Now? We mostly text to ensure that the other isn’t dead. These days… I miss her.

But Hell! If I wanted to die, why not text my Olds? How many days have passed by? And it’s only going to get worse the longer I delay. I’m thirty-nine, Lady Sophia. And still, I hide things like a child with a bad report card. If I could go back to reading about my Stupidity. There’s plenty of that.

Which brings me back to the Day Job. I was reading about my idiocy there. And talk about an irrational fear. No! I was about to say something, but why wish it into existence, My Lady? And don’t worry, we’ll get to wishing about something when it comes to text.

But for now, it’s not so many texts… uh ha-ha. But everything else I should be doing. E-mails, reading, Braxton…

Did I nearly forget about him today? Especially in February? My fingers always found him, even when I was lost to rage three years ago. And at the same time, I should have been writing. I could have saved him. And have I even petted Virgil today? I scooted away.

That brings me to what I fear M Anime might do. Did I text too much on Valentine’s Day, Lady Sophia? It wouldn’t be the first time. But how long have I known Braxton’s Aunt and Cherry? M Anime has them beat. I’ve known my son, B III, for a long time —my Braxton’s Paws.

Others talk about Grandma’s Hands. And my hands? I’ve wept, wanked, but writing. PET Virgil, make a PROFIT, put on PANTS. I’ll B Texting Virgil

1111 Days Without B III, Day 552 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 228 ~Valentines B To V~

Be my Valentine? Or, as I asked M Anime. Do you want to be my Valentine? With B, it was, get in the car. With some girls, it was, here’s $300. Let’s see some yabbos. For myself, “Don’t die.” “You have a kid.” But something’s missing Valentines B To V

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Tale 228 ~Valentines B To V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is there anything worse than not doing right by love? “You Always Hurt the One You Love.” Right?

Then Virgil is going to live forever. Am I REALLY going to start today like this? Inspector, what was yesterday? Braxton’s 19th birthday. One more day down. One more testament. It’s like me being thirty-nine. I figured that Braxton would make it to twenty. Five years, Inspector. Braxton was supposed to have a mom. He would have a big yard to patrol in his old age. And he would be a big brother. And where am I on that front? Well, Virgil is here. But “Is This Love?” I can ask that about plenty, Inspector; B III, M Anime, myself.

Love lies bleeding… Like the toxins in Braxton’s little body. And the chemicals that ended his suffering. The chocolates and CREAM for M Anime. Tears…

Echo, you tell me that yesterday was about crying over “Someone You Loved. But now?

I know I should be a better man than this. I asked M Anime to be my Valentine. And I wonder if I met her before I met my Little B III. Talk about the cart before the horse, ha.

Okay, Inspector, that’s an example of things I shouldn’t say on this Holy day. Valentines… I’m not moving Braxton’s ghost off the bed. And I’m not making love to a beautiful woman, either. I swear, Inspector, today’s another morning. I’m not a father or lover. Valentine? Even though I asked her Inspector, I’m trying to figure out what that means.

Only I think I’m getting that whole; love yourself first…

But then again, I’ve never loved myself. But I loved the hell out of my little boy. And how did that turn out for Braxton again? That’s what one gets when they love me, Inspector.

And the things that I’ve been thinking about M Anime? Why do you think I’m up so early on a workday talking to you, Inspector? I’m hot, horny, and I want to do something to make M Anime happy. Because as the song goes, “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” Is that because “Somewhere Out There,” someone is thinking about me, Inspector Echo? Positively? Hmm.

Like A, W, X, Y, Z, something’s missing, Dear Inspector.

The love of my boys? A good woman? What about sex? Valentines B To V
1109 Days Without B III, Day 550 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

“King of the ashes?” I’m sure I read that somewhere. You could say I am, as my soon-to-be nineteen-year-old prince sits in a box. And is nothing but ash. Should I read another book about why I feel so guilty? Unfortunately, no. B’s Worlds Away Virgil

Friday, February 9, 2024

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… At least I’ll give it the good ole college try. But how did that turn out?

My GPA is as low as my son. Um? I’m in some kind of mood, aren’t I? And not just today. Tomorrow? Wednesday, February 10, 2021, where will I be? Running Up That Hill, or rather walking up that aisle, to collect what is left of Braxton Barks Bradford.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we bury these (censored) in the Earth’s crust. Or keep my boy in a box on the nightstand. “There is another world. There is a better world.” Indeed, my lady. It sounds more like something out of a Black Mirror episode. But no, not yet.

Other than the episode Fifteen Million Merits, I haven’t watched another. And that’s the point of today. There are so many worlds out there, Sophia.

I’m ashamed I didn’t pick up another dog book this week. You saw my reading list this first year that Braxton was gone. Hell! Most of those books said the same thing, my lady. THEY said that we use grief to stay connected to the lost. Three years and counting.

Lady Sophia, I don’t know where I’m going. But I know where I want to be. Ash, dust, dirt? I’m not sure where I stand on the idea of a soul. But, “Somewhere Out There.” Sophia, my boy, is out there. I know it. And that’s what I should be reading about at the moment. Only today, to quote a particular politician. “I don’t want reality.” I want B III.

Playlists, Receipts, the STUPID Bowl.

But take the $13.95 I paid to get another audiobook. Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. I got three words for ya. Natasha (Tasha) Holland. To compare Gray’s college experiences to mine…

I imagine “What Kind Of Man Would I Be” if I had brains or balls. Uh, why not both, hmm? That would make me Darrow “Red Rising” to “Golden Son.” Or Eddie from “Backyard Dungeon” 4 to 5. My library is growing, Lady Sophia. And I’m still not reading with Virgil. At least not on the loveseat as I would and should. My “Lazy Ass!”

So that’s it, Lady Sophia. I’m so tired of crying for Braxton. I read of these other worlds but won’t go. And what of my writing? B’s Worlds Away Virgil

1104 Days Without B III, Day 545 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

Where do I go? Hell! I need to focus on getting one foot out of bed, and then what? Even when B was dying and could barely see, he knew where he was going. That is until he was on his belly in the hospital, asking me to take him home. “Path B For V.”

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Can you imagine what that feels like? To open your eyes and know you’re a sinner. Finding God…

If I ever did my Echo, I don’t know if I would laugh, cry, or get to swinging. Now, I could go into all the reasons to fight in this day and age, but here’s the sin besides waking up.

Gospel 221, Willing To Lie Braxton, three years ago Inspector.

One more day, where I admitted what had happened to Braxton. And with the critic being incapable of going backward. I had Braxton put to sleep because of Kidney Failure.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t remember him walking from his bed to his water bowl as he was dying. I brought his water to him. And Braxton’s bed was soaked all with the sickness that had overtaken my little son.

Which leads me to the paths I walk, Inspector. The first step is always out of my bed. Is it more of a sin to give in to my sloth? To know that every additional step is only to sin again. Or is it in knowing that “Every Little Step” I take signifies nothing? This Existence Inspector Echo is nothing. Again, I have three years to go off of. Writing about Braxton and me. Sigh

As I’m not Bobby Brown. Hell! How many girls have I gotten up for? Did I really just say that, Inspector? We’ll get there. But for fifteen years, when I woke up. “Hey Little B!”

Make Way For The King. And Braxton walked as my little prince. The world belonged to us, or it would.

That’s what his Daddy told him. And even when I was exhausted. Braxton would make sure to defend this castle, his home. I wish I could walk like that again. Is B watching me now?

What about with Saga 221 ~Y B V Gushes~? Hell! I didn’t want him to see his Dad like that. Though Braxton always had his toys. And then there was that talk about his Aunt. But that didn’t get him in as much trouble as other things. The things I would send him to his room for so I could… Anyway, his Daddy on his belly doesn’t compare to PetSmart.

The center aisle is still hard to tread. Braxton’s passing…

But getting out today? One step, Path B For V

1102 Days Without B III, Day 543 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

There are few words on the page that I can call my own. I have to feed the beast. I’d tell B my words that would save us. But I feast on the words of others. A bookworm. I spared B that fate because I don’t burn books. “Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm”

Friday, February 2, 2024

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… about how not to write a book review. Or not finishing Red Rising. And getting up…

I swear, where are the worms and maggots already? I didn’t let them have Braxton. Dearest Sophia, didn’t I tell one of the girls the other day that my son had gone through the fire? Hell! On the day Braxton passed… I swear, as I walked outside, the son, my son, shone down on me if there was ever a more perfect time for the end of the world, Sophia.

But that’s how it did end. “Not with a bang but a whimper,” as I think T.S. Eliot wrote. Hmm.

So I can read that, but not Red Rising by Pierce Brown? Let me be clear. I will finish it, but not this week. Unless I buckle down… Ha-Ha! Again, the worms, maggots, and grubs.

That’s as likely as me reading the Bible. How else am I going to stay out of Hell for what I’ve done to my son? What about the way I treat Virgil? And women? I am trying to forget. When Braxton was gone, I lost everything. And you want to talk about love, Sophia?

I would become a eunuch. Virgil doesn’t have his “stones.” Grey Worm had two beautiful women. Darrow is trying his hardest to resist Virginia/Mustang. I could go on for some time.

But my point is, I would give THAT up if I could see my son again. But the answer’s no.

And now I read all these books, Lady Sophia. If we’re talking about 2024, there’s been Robyn, Julia, and Tasha from Satan’s Sorority Girls. Jenny/Sister Meretrix from the Pessumae Christi. EO/Persephone and Virginia/Mustang from Red Rising. I’m on a list… I’m a worm on my belly. Or whatever. Tossing and turning with what’s to come

Sunday, February 4, 2024… But it was a Thursday in 2021 when my boy met the fire, and then… I’ve only opened his box once to see what had become of my son. My Braxton.

Sophia, this is the way the world ends. I bought a gun in 2020 on the grounds of keeping my son and me safe… Of course… Only 2021 came not with a bang but whimpering. Braxton would never. That would be me. What have I learned in three years since about Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm?

1097 Days Without B III, Day 538 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

“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,

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,

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

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,