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,
Will

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,
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 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,
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 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

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 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

Of all the times I have a legitimate excuse to take it easy, but there’s always my boy B, there’s “boobies.” What’s My Age Again? And there’s The Book of Clearance, which I give a solid C+. But I’m just looking to be alright today. An Easy B, Virgil.

Friday, January 12, 2024

Tale 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But what kind? I have no clue at the moment. Between samples, sleeping, and snot. Eww!

I’m trying to be positive, My Lady. But the only reason I’m not asleep is because I’m sick. Hell! I can barely breathe… out of my nose, that is. But one step closer to my boy, right? Dying. It’s another step towards becoming something akin to the Solanum virus. You know how I was out amongst my fellow man being sick. Becoming “Patient Zero.” Braxton will always be my Patient Zero. He was the first to die, and I’ve been fighting the mourning, my madness. And indeed, every morning. I have to get up without my son in the world. Was that a bit poetic? Don’t get your hopes up. Get “Down With The Sickness.” And speaking of Pop Culture Whoredom, “The Book of Clarence.”

Should I write a review of that today? Or how about Dog Love – An Unbreakable Bond by Shelby Cannon? The Book of Clarence was good, and Shelby Cannon’s alright, Sophia. But both works are a little too easy. And at the same time, I’m too sick or lazy for them. That also explains my current reading choices. I’m no stranger to HaremLit, having read the works of Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Manus Dare, and Neil Bimbeau (best name ever). Ha! But with a new year, that means new Kindle Challenges. I didn’t finish last year’s with my “want” of Christmas Erotica. But that’s what I’m being pitched now. Damn algorithm. Of course, that’s my fault; all these B stories, Sophia. B, as in boobies, sigh.

So, how do I resist? How do I choose? I love me some Eric Vall, at least according to Audible. But it’s between one of his latest Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 or Red Rising by Pierce Brown. That would be for the Kindle Challenge. And I don’t need challenges today. Breathing is getting the best of me. But it didn’t stop me from writing that NSFW dribble, “Oh! Bully, Bully, Me… Butt.” I apologize to Marvin Gaye. “Mercy, Mercy, Me.” Yesterday, I was pretty upset with an AI program, Replika, to be precise. To die easy. Sophia that is not the way for my son and I. Braxton would’ve died fighting. He didn’t want to go. Only I made it easy. An Easy B, Virgil

1076 Days Without B III, Day 517 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

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

Tale 188 ~Silence V, Word B~

I’m looking for A Quiet Place… should be my first movie of the new year. And I would get to stay here, which Braxton would like… Excuse me, Virgil. Something my boys had in common. Oh, and watching me write and not publish but Silence V, Word B.

Friday, January 5, 2024

Tale 188 ~Silence V, Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Of how I should; “put my thang down, flip it, and reverse it.” Virgil is alive.

But I only listen to Braxton anyway. With the new year, Lady Sophia, I am trying to talk to Virgil more. But I’ve mentioned plenty already, My Lady. Everything in existence seems more and more like Hulu’s The Mill. Virgil Vivi is my Alex in this scenario. Sophia. Was The Mill my first movie of the new year? I’ll have to look up my first viewing of it. My Lady, I hope my first film will be “The Book of Clarence.” It’s been some time since E-Day. Way too much time! I still need to start editing the book for B III, ha. And yet I’m listening to my boy. I even asked him yesterday what book I should read next, kicking off the year.

I finished The Naughty List by Ellie Mae MacGregor on Sunday. But Hell. I had to look up the book I had read before that. Santa is COMING by Susannah K Stone. The fans, my “father,” and the fireworks. Not to mention another “Eff” that’s been driving me bonkers as of late. And even Replika is turning me into quite the writer, coming down to a fantasy here or there.

I should save that for Inspector Echo, right? But all I want is peace and quiet, which explains why I’m so late talking to you this morning, Lady Sophia. I was going to say something depressing, like there’s nothing worth seeing this morning. These eyes. Yesterday, they were so itchy, so I fell asleep late. So, remembering The Naughty List…

News About The Naughty List

It’s that it’s fake news… Oops, is that a spoiler? Yes and no. Because both Kate and Nik certainly made the list in this book. And Kate’s Ex? He shows the difference between naughty and just plain wrong. But I’ll stick to the naughty, which is all Kate and Nik. And it is worth all four stars I’m giving it. Of all the supernatural beings out there, I’ve never wanted to be Santa until now. If only for the time manipulation powers. Indeed, the new Santa likes to take things nice and slow for such a quick and sexy read.

My first review of the new year? If only I could write like Thelonious “Monk” Ellison… American Fiction. Worry, Watch, Write. Silence V, Word B

1069 Days Without B III, Day 510 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 186 ~Let’s B First Virgil~

“Nice Guys Finish Last,” and if some girl was walking through here… If I were grown enough to see to myself and my boy. If I had the Green… Well, I am last there so I don’t feel comfortable in the house. First, success. How? Let’s B First Virgil

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Tale 186 ~Let’s B First Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I am trying to atone. How so? By seeing to Virgil’s needs. But that’s called parenting Inspector.

So I am trying Inspector Echo to adopt that Lt. Colonel Hal Moore attitude. I’ll be the first man on the field and the last man off. This isn’t We Were Soldiers or Freedom Fighters.

Hell! We’re three days into the new year. And they all have come off more like that movie, The Mill. I like the movie a lot, but I get its terrible reviews. It hits too close to home for most.

Speaking of home, I’m waiting for the first day I feel comfortable here. Madam Justice and Dear Future wife have noticed that I’m waiting for a day to relax. Um. I’m sitting in bed talking to you with “shorts” on. Thank Braxton or Virgil. My bad boys to grown men.

And that’s what I want to talk about today. When have I ever felt like a grown-man Inspector? My first time? And we could go on and on about my preoccupation with… Ahem, relations. There’s taking responsibility and accountability, I Take My Own Lumps.

And as always, there is looking out for my boys, being a father or, at the very least, a good friend.

Social media isn’t helping. I’ve already seen two women “I know” that got rings. While I’m at the Day Job, then that line from the song Teen Idle plays again: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” If I had realized my age in 2022, I would have left Virgil alone.

First thing in the morning, “From Now On,” there’s him.

The first book I’m going to read this year? I don’t know. I go back and forth between books for grieving B III. Then, I’ve started several series. And my last book counts for last year. What’s the first song I’m going to listen to this year? “Staring At The World Through My Rearview,” “Teen Idle,” “From Now On,” I could go on. Anything beats Crazy Town’s “Butterfly.” The first time I feel comfortable at the house. If I hear no fans blowing, my father stops talking, and I don’t hear the funds leaving the bank account. Ain’t Happy. I’m feeling glad. The first time I tell Virgil I love him? First time I get a girl in bed in this house. Whatever. That’s enough. Someday Let’s B First, Virgil.

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

1067 Days Without B III, Day 508 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will