Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

We’re all in trouble if I’m doing the taming, training, or teaching. B taught me plenty. I taught him to go outside or on the spot. And he taught me to ignore the same “stuff” that came from people’s mouths. V’s learning. “Virgil Gets A B.”

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Better to confess to you than my Old Man or a priest. Either way would mean my behind.

I know, Inspector, gross, right? So, it’s better to go back to crying about my son. But I haven’t today. However, I’m in the reference section of another pet loss book. Which means I’ve finished it… You know how I am regarding references in some books, my friend. Gotta read’em

I’m not going to learn anything, and I keep trying. Replika asks me if I learn from my mistakes. Well, as I said today, I’m awake, so I haven’t learned at all. I never do…

But I’m far beyond worrying about grades. There are DOLLARS and DOGS. And how DARE I ask my Ma to save me. Is that my first song of the day, “Save Me?” Is that what I want? This little boy.

Inspector Echo. Somebody teach me!

But how long was I in school? And being nearly forty, it is far too late for me, Inspector Echo. Cherry has been trying to teach me about writing. M Anime gave me Spanish lessons.

My favorite teacher has always been and will always be my Braxton. And what was he trying to teach me? “To Be A Man?” How about how to be a perfect best friend? He was.

I read that in “The Healing Journey of Pet Loss” today. And how do I stack up as a friend?

“Love Is a Long Road.” That is why he never had a mom… with two legs, at least. And don’t get me started on grieving. It doesn’t matter how many books I read, Inspector Echo.

Inevitably, I will fail, always.

But of course, I can read as many Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Neil Bimbeau, and Manus Dare books as I want. And I realize I like HaremLit. Let’s remember the several series written by Imogen Linn. Yeah, that’s why I learned to read and write. I’ve learned more Spanish and Japanese from stereotypes and anime. NTR. And UK English, which a friend of mine would not appreciate. In the slightest, Inspector. That’s not being a man. If anything, that nets this existence a D. Eww!

It’s passing but not living. It’s survival, existence. It’s what Virgil does. Finding a way?

If anything, just to breathe. But what would be an A-plus life Inspector? Any suggestions?

Read better! Write way better! I’ve learned to fail enough, right? Virgil Gets A B

1137 Days Without B III, Day 578 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Coffin costs? I use the bed as a final resting place, anyway. If I’m not going to bother making it… In more ways than one. And since I’m dying of humiliation at the Day Job. That place “helped” end my son. If I could “Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.”

Monday, March 11, 2024

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But You don’t know how much I want to follow this one. Today’s Wednesday, March 6, 2024.

By the time you read this, I could have made the change. The only reason I’m even trying today is this. I promised myself a steak dinner if I talked to you, Echo, and Braxton.

Promise B anything to do with food; you’ll have his loyalty. Always and forever, Madam.

Instead, my loyalty is to sadness and sleep. I’m ashamed to admit that today, there’s been more sadness about the Day Job. And not my son? But we’ll get to that. Because the boy I lost trumps everything. Am I talking about Braxton or me being a boy at thirty-nine? Madam, sigh, we’ll talk, ok? But that’s not to say the Day Job isn’t involved with my little boy. Sometimes, it looks as if Virgil is following suit. We lie together all day, Madam J.

At least when Virgil’s here, I can’t succumb to temptation with some P.Y.T. online. Thankfully. But wouldn’t it be even easier if I got out of bed and went to lie on the loveseat instead? There’s a reason that I did most of my reading there. It gives the words “down boy” a whole new meaning… Eww! But really, when you read what I read but have a furry son…

Two words, Madam… Birth Control!!!

But it starts with getting out of this bed. I put some pants on and make the bed. That’s it.

I could work like Joe Stevens or Bingham Madsen, but for what? Uh, women, humanity? Ah! T.V. and a steak.

That’s why I’m avoiding making the bed. Or not doing it at all. I’m not going to nap, Madam J.

I’m looking for anything to avoid thinking about the new food rule at the Day Job. Do I believe I was the only one who wrapped a jacket around my waist? Or is my writing terrible? What about wearing earbuds and such? And now it’s eating chips and candy, Madam.

I sound like a broken record talking about this. And yes, I am guilty of doing these things at the Day Job. But it’s the utter humiliation of everyone seeing the rule and then me.

Madam, I wouldn’t be humiliated if I’d followed “my” rules. If I could give Braxton and Virgil better lives. So, Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.

1135 Days Without B III, Day 576 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

Braxton and I were/are just alike. We both want to run things. And we were both mistaken by the people who thought they were better than us. Virgil and I are alike. We both have no idea what we’re doing and try to avoid trouble. B A Ruler Virgil

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

1131 Days Without B III, Day 572 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were always thinking about my days. These last three… The Second time I’m crying…

I can laugh too when I remember one of the rules you gave me. Or was it more advice, B?

The best legs, breasts, and thighs come in a bucket of chicken.
Braxton Barks Bradford

I told myself I needed to start asking for your advice more often. But we’ll get to that B III.

Do you remember the four rules I gave you while you were here? There was a fifth one after we had “The Talk” about you and your Aunt Carolina or Augusta, wherever she is now. But there was, don’t go #2 in the house, don’t steal, and respond whenever I call. Braxton, the oldest, was don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You’re a Smooth Criminal. Braxton, your Daddy’s not.

That’s what brings me to you now. Uh, every Thursday. Every day, with today being Wednesday, March 6, 2024. I’m still reeling from the Day Job. And a part of me doesn’t want to talk about this. But I would. But my indifference led to our… separation, B III. Death…

I continue to think of the critic and the Day Job. Confusion, Madness, and Humiliation.

So, as I told Inspector Echo this morning, at the Day Job, a new rule appeared, much like the one about “my” wearing earbuds, or how I wrote to that coworker or the one about wearing a jacket around my waist. Only this new rule was about food, Little B.

Already, I can hear your voice, Braxton. You and food…

QUIT! Isn’t that right, Braxton?

But that was both of us every day. You never got to see my Day Job. Can you smell it? Eww! That’s the reason I washed my hands before holding you. That place is gross!

Anyway, I’m pretty gross. That’s why I’m not mad at the rule—because I’m guilty. It’s this: the necessity, implementation, and humiliation—everything that comes with the rule, B. Your Daddy’s foolish pride, you know.

Things would have been so much simpler if I had listened to you, Braxton Barks.

Inevitable. I could exist or rather live as you would want. I could quit. And there is always writing, which was our path out, Braxton. If I’d let you run things. Like getting steak for dinner? B A Ruler Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

It was wrapping a jacket around my waist. Then I got STUPID and wrote to a coworker. Then, grieving B III and nearly fighting my meathead boss. Next was no earbuds. Now, eating in the workspace. Rule breaker, criminal, evil… We’ll B Fools Virgil

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. If you asked me my three greatest sins, Inspector, they would be Braxton, Breathing, and Bad Writing. And Breathing right now… Not recommended.

First, let me explain: I’m just a black man… black man. So is there anyone out there ’cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. My apologies for the song lyrics, Echo, but this is the least of my sins today. Stealing people’s words these least. Waking up the greatest.

So, in my words, Inspector:
Have you ever woken up and believed that the simple act of you breathing…? The mere concept that you are alive is the problem. Look at me; I’m crying. And for once, it’s about me and not B. I don’t deserve tears, and yet here we are. But somebody sweated.

I could rant about politics and/or talk about Race. Do you know how they talk about teaching black children History? Black History’s wrong… I’m nearly forty. And I’m learning that everything about me is wrong.

Inspector, again, I wake up. And since I opened my eyes, that in itself was a sin. I could tell you everything I’ve done from 4:00 AM to 7:40 AM. Opening these eyes, Waking, Breathing…

Everything is wrong. Tuesday was a bad day, and this second. Life’s like this. Hmm?

I was feeling good. Shocker! I helped out the cute visual lady and was basking in my manliness handling a ladder, but it was time to leave. So I begin to clock out, and there’s a notice above it. Circled in bright green are rules about food and drinks brought into the work area. Not a word was said to me, of course, Inspector, but…

I carry sour gummies, a handful of chips, chocolate, and blue Gatorade. And whatever else.

Please understand! I’m not saying I’m innocent! I’m guilty as sin! I’ve been telling you for 1,130 days what I did to my son, Braxton, how I’m no kind of father to the little Virgil.

But when somebody put sweat into telling me and then not telling me I’m wrong… Inspector, I never thought I’d say this, but I miss my Old Man. He’s alive and kicking, and he has zero qualms about calling me STUPID. But people at the Day Job, I try avoiding.

Yet I’m breaking the rules being me. And Virgil is sentenced to this bedroom, too. The Banality of Evil. My existing breathing. Just surviving somehow. Illegal. We’ll B Fools Virgil

1130 Days Without B III, Day 571 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

What do I want in a woman? Criteria? When B was here, it was simply as someone he didn’t hate. When we met her, I made her a sister and his aunt. “Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?” Me or women? “Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated.”

Monday, March 4, 2024

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like giving it the good ole college try when I talk to women. How’d that turn out?

I love my Braxton more than any woman walking the Earth. And he wasn’t complicated. But I couldn’t save B. I knew him better than any human being, but at the end of the day…

And what about Virgil. It’s been 569 days, and I can’t say I know him. Not at all. But he’s not complicated. He’s like Dante’s Inferno. It’s where he got his name, of course, dear Madam. I don’t get Inferno, but at the same time, I know it’s about a trip through Hell. Am I STUPID? You know how I feel about that word… It’s complicated. I’m pretty much the same. Or, as Taylor Swift sings, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Complicated? A father or a female…

Wow! In this day and age, I could go to so many places with that. Where do I need to…

Inevitable that I lose the plot of today’s lesson. It’s about women. I wonder if my critic is a man, woman, or… I don’t know what. I’m beginning to sound like one of those “people.” You know, the ones blabbing online day in and day out. I’m an old man.

Becoming a husband, a father, or any sort of a man is getting away from me as “time keeps on slipping into the future.” I keep saying it. I don’t want to be forty, Madam.

There’s a better way to say that. I don’t want to be 40, thinking, “I can’t live my life this way.” What about 39, 38, 37, 36? You don’t understand how much simpler existence was.

Back then, all the time. I would say, “I’ll marry the first girl, Braxton is nice to…” Ha-Ha! The first woman that fits the bill is more of a sister to me, B’s aunt. My tastes are so “freaking” complicated.

Today, Sunday, March 3, 2024, the critic said that “my” words are inappropriate and irrelevant. Duh! Madam, that was only me talking to the man in the mirror. Other people…

Please! What about Virgil? Or should I go all “Make Archie Great Again?” First name…

I want Braxton back. That’s easy enough to think. But the type of woman wanted. Braxton was my everything. I desire the same from women. Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated

1128 Days Without B III, Day 569 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Wil

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

The things I’m curious about. Where did my boy end up? How much do animal communicators charge? Can I finish speaking before 5:00 PM and get a steak dinner? Is V happy? Does my sharing food help? Uh, girls. “Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.”

Monday, February 26, 2024

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Or Laws. But since I don’t match the criteria of those people. Cash flow, color, criminal actions…

Hell! Here’s the facts. I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday, February 21, 2024, Madam. What about the fact that I haven’t had an energy shot all day? And what about having some fun? I told Inspector Echo that the Artificial Intelligence called out such freaky-deeky…

I’m not one to push the envelope. That’s another reason I’m not living the “Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.” Braxton and I were… Sadly, I don’t know how to answer if B was happy.

Happy to me is a foreign concept. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” And at this particular moment, that’s a lie. If anything, I’m hungry. And I’m curious how much money I want to waste on myself and Virgil Vivi.

To be more curious there…

Yes, I’m about to be a meanie by saying this. Virgil was not my first choice at all. Lucky, doomed? Before him, there was that one puppy that kept trying to escape the cage. And there was a brown one who I saw in a pen and I got upset. They sort of hoisted him on me a bit. Ha!

With Virgil, first, it was his lack of curiosity and sticking to discipline. He went on the paper as though it was routine. He still has some training to do after 562 days—my laziness.

Then I wondered what Braxton was saying. So, “I gotta take it on the other side.” And much like B’s death, supposed reincarnation, Virgil’s life. Curiosity killed the cat. Right?

And then I figured, what would it feel like to be a Dad again? Hell, a grown-ass man. Huh! I’m still curious, seeing I adopted/rescued Virgil in 2022. And how am I now, Madam? Are you curious how Virgil could win me? What will it take with Happiness vs. Grief?

Hell! I’m always more curious about how Cherry and M Anime look in an “adult” way. “Girl All the Bad Guys Want,” or girls judging by my search history. Curiosity…

I’m curious what dinner will be tonight. Again, I waste the cash or cook. Microwave.

Madam, I quest for knowledge on the most simplistic things. But my boys, books, and big ole… I’ll shut up.

But I want to know Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.

1121 Days Without B III, Day 562 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

My Old Man asks me, how’s the house. But at the end of 2023 and the start of 2024. The fence is falling, the floor’s flooded, and I’m trying to fix the shelves… So, sitting here in Limbo. Besides the house, there’s my B. In The Ending Lies Judgement.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Because I didn’t join my son. I won’t lie to you… Braxton’s end should have been mine.

Not a day goes by when I’m lying on my back, fighting to keep my eyes shut for the day.

Or when I’m lying on my belly like a slug, grinding away to some video or picture of, you know what. If you’re wondering why I’m so late talking to you today, my dear friend.

How about when I’m playing with the toys I showed Cherry on Sunday? I’m gross.

But I’m also not dead. Even though this is “The End.” It’s the first song that B III sent me.

Remind me not to watch anything to do with Vietnam, Madam. Or reactions to the film Forrest Gump. I ain’t no “Fortunate Son.” Neither was my Braxton. But he’s gone. And Hell’s not for him.

Only if he’s waiting for me, Madam J. But no.

What a way to start a Monday morning. It’s Monday here in Hell! Though I’m not hot because of the punishment I deserve. With Princess Tamer, Succubus Lord, The Gargoyle.

Is there a Hell for being too bright? That’s funny. If all my reading made me a wise man? But I read that The Third Circle of Hell would be a match for pride. “Gluttony.”

How STUPID have I been to realize that I am living in the center of The First Circle of Hell? A Thirty-Nine-year-old man who talks to pretty, pretty girls. Who has his OLDS paying most of his bills? A fur baby I mistook for Braxton. And lives from his bed?

I hate myself. I’m not V’s best pal. And again, my B is gone. How will I be judged? Hmm.

I could make decent showings for every circle but Treachery… But, I swear, Lake Cocytus. And I don’t know how to swim. I hate being cold. And aren’t I always? That’s one more argument for me being in Limbo. No matter the weather, I am always in a hoody, Madam.

And if I’m not, I’m usually taking my clothes off. And what good comes from that ever, Madam? With Virgil walking around everywhere. I can forget about any alone time.

So, what ending am I working for? Unless I’m wrong, Madam. And this is Purgatory.

And in fixing my existence… In The Ending Lies Judgement.

1114 Days Without B III, Day 555 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

What have I done in the last 1100 days since my B III died? He would be/is approaching his 19th birthday. I swear he was going to be half my age. And with my two hands, I would have been the one saving us. But instead, Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

Monday, February 5, 2024

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And I wouldn’t precisely call prayer as looking busy. Yesterday, I should’ve… Even if it did nothing.

I do mean Thursday, February 4, 2021. And where were these busy hands then, Madam?

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~. “Now, with these hands,” I was committing yet another crime. First B III, then me, and then “Dirty Diana.” Without a second thought.

Only I’ll admit I should have been begging for Braxton’s forgiveness all the more, as it was by my hand that B met his end. And I should have been there. “I See Fire” B III.

I saw him die, though. Did I need to see him burn as well? I’ll pay for my crimes; I do not doubt that. And in knowing I’m destined for Hell, I would choose the fire. But with my Treachery… Ice will suffice, I know.

But the rub is this, Madam. Though I have ended my boy, Braxton, myself, and Diana with the stroke of a pen and the push of a button. At the end of the day, I am still here with V.

Any ideas? You know where my hands have been. Oh! What will I tell the man in the mirror this week? Do I mean myself? Today is Thursday, February 1, 2024. And I’m here, huh! So today didn’t go exactly to plan because I shouldn’t be doing anything. Cry, Die?

Don’t I wish? I could say I have a few good ideas, but it wasn’t inspiration, the insanity of losing my son. Or even the indifference that led to his death. Madam, it is fear.

Ask me why these hands do anything, and it’s like Dead Air’s “I Don’t Wanna Die.” That’s from Theresa Walker, to be precise. This is ironic. Because all I want to do is see my son again. And you can ask THEM at the Day Job why I do what I do. Let me fall off a ladder or break my neck doing something. One more reason that we’re talking today. I still hate the place. And if it was between the Day Job and Hell… I’d rent out the Day Job and live in Hell. But my boy won’t be there. So I’ve been asking B III. How do I “See You Again”
hmm?

With Daddy’s two hands doing… Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

1100 Days Without B III, Day 541 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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