Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

It’s sad to say I had better days when B III was sitting on my head, and I couldn’t breathe. Now I hit the snooze button and hope I’m not breathing in 15. Christmas spirit indeed… Don’t check my “OF.” Such are the times, the days. B’s Bad Day, Virgil

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

1425 Days Without B III, Day 866 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It is 4:10 PM. So my day… Well, I didn’t share it with your brother.

Though Virgil is asleep at the foot of the bed. He still stays off your corner. And your bed, B? I don’t even worry about it. Your scent lingers, Braxton. If Life Finds A Way…

However, there’ll be more on that later. How was my day? It was a bit of a rollercoaster, B. Some parts were horrible, some were terrible, and some were just plain stupid. But I’m here, and I’m thinking of you.

Let’s start with standing in the Walmart parking lot in the rain and thinking weirdly. Usually, they start at the Day Job and come out fully cooked coming back. And speaking of fully cooked, we need to talk about Christmas too. Seeing your grandparents, B.

Anyway. Here is the thought: I’ve never had three good days in a row. Before. With. And even after you. Comedy comes in threes, right? But evil is infinite B…

And you, my son, were my Langolier. Where do I keep getting these nicknames I never called you in life? I swear I should read a Stephen King novel. Not that I regret reading Brave New World, 1984, and apparently the appendix edition of Fahrenheit 451. And I want to waste more money on Satan’s Sorority Girls 8, Ryan and His Beauties 2, and Bikini Sunset. And I still have to read, It Can’t Happen Here” What, a good day?

Again, three good ones in a row. But what counts as a good day in my eyes? One, where I don’t mind opening them. Even if you were sitting on my head. No homo, as Todd would say. One where dropping dead is No Bueno.

But let’s sum up yesterday… I visited your grandparents for Christmas and sat with your great-grandma. I didn’t talk much and let your little brother take the heat. I filled up two to-go boxes… three if you were here and left. Then I took Christmasy pictures, you shouldn’t see. Eww.

And today? I went to the Day Job and had to lead a guy around as we made Christmas disappear and got doused in green glitter. I got hit in the face, my leg is hurting again, and of course, Humiliations Galore. Humiliated at Walmart, robbed, and a nap later…

And here we are. Needless to say, I don’t wanna go to work. Friday is gonna be effed. There’ve been worse. B’s Bad Day, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

I haven’t read the books I wrote for or with my son in ages. And the book I’m reading now… It’s going to hurt. I’m preparing for the U.S.A. next year. Remember, Winston was thirty-nine, and I’m forty. No B III, no Julia. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

Thursday, December 19, 2024

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

1418 Days Without B III, Day 859 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday evening. And I’m still counting scars…

Well, different forms of PAIN anyway. Earlier this week, I discussed having a headache, bum ear, and aching leg. You can add a stomachache to the mix. Whether that’s from letting you down, thinking about tomorrow/today, or 1984… It’s all a mess, Braxton. The usual.

But it sucks even more when you know what’s going to happen. Only packing the car with your things hurts more than Winston and Julia being arrested by the Thought Police. That scene… I’m getting into George Orwell’s novel, huh? If I were, I wouldn’t be tearing up today. As always, Braxton, whenever something gets me upset, I think of the worst day of our “lives,” and here I am, still alive. But who knows what horrors tomorrow will bring.

If I were smart, I’d get the Winston and Julia arrest out of the way and focus on the Ministry of Love. It would prepare me for the Day Job. And if only I would publish one of our novels already. Tuesday, M Anime messaged me about, Nightmare At The Meat Market. I was so dedicated to it back in November. And how many stories did you watch me write that amounted to nothing? I last sat at the Dining Room table a few weeks ago. Or even sitting in the recliner reading while listening to some 1984 Ambience, B III. Again, I’ve been reading worse things. The bank account, pill bottles, and a grocery list. I swear that scares me more than my writing.

But what about Virgil’s story. Talk about the Ministry of Love. He comes scrambling out of your room like he’s seen a ghost… Did I say that, Braxton? You haven’t been haunting him as he’s desperate to get in here with me. If he knew how to use training pads.

You’ve seen that he does, but he won’t step into your spot, which brings us back to money and what I should be buying. No, not more dystopian books. Christmas, Harems, Pet Loss, Training, everything under the sun. Like me sleeping at noon every day? What about how to be a better parent? And you’re a Big Brother, aren’t you? But we are the dead.

Not me, but being so brokenhearted. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

Global Warming, Climate Change… I haven’t worn a coat because I’m always angry at people. Or I’m humiliated. I should erase my browser history, etc.… I’m always taking the heat. And with what happened to my son. Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

Thursday, December 12, 2024

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

1411 Days Without B III, Day 852 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How many days did I come back burning up? Angry? Humiliated? Sick? Far too many…

And today? Well, your Dad’s no chef. I’m still burning money, paper, and sheets, Braxton.

I hope you weren’t watching that. And what about Virgil? He’s trying to get warm. All by his lonesome. And I’m crying, so I best not go outside lest my tears freeze. It’d be practice.

Do you know which is the coldest Circle in Hell? The Ninth Circle. That’s Treachery. Again, my boy, anytime I’m having a hard time, I remember what I have survived… I lost you, Braxton. It makes everything else pale in comparison. So because the Day Job burned me up, I could go for some tears. But what brought them on. A Dog’s Purpose, B III. Braxton, I’m not reading it… Again, I mean. Or watching.

At least if you were here, I wouldn’t feel as bad about burning daylight. Wasting my time. It’s so much better writing a novel about four individuals trying to set the world on fire. That’s one thing about never getting published. I won’t allow someone to burn my book. I should be so lucky. To earn a paycheck for doing something that I… Love, Braxton.

That’s one more thing that burns me up. My jealousy while watching all these dog channels. And watching these families become rich and famous. I hid you from the world.

However, I take a picture of Virgil every day. He feels the sunshine, sleeps in soft sheets, and stays warm… for now. Yet he wonders why I’m always so cold.

When I’m getting hot over every woman who’s not even close to being your stepmother. When I’m stewing over every mistake. When I know I’m cooked. And I can’t do anything to save myself or Virgil. I told myself at the Day Job that I thought your purpose was to get me into Heaven. If God smiled down on me for anything, it would be because I was your Daddy. Heaven’s Light in comparison to Hellfire. Yet, Virgil’s thriving, somehow.

He has to guide me through the Inferno. But where am I now? In some story awaiting the fire? Melting away on the floor? Sweating over some girl’s picture? Daylight is a wastin’ Braxton. And when the sun rises once more… Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

How can one be so unfortunate? The death of a child. Wow! That’s dark. And Braxton was grown… in dog years. But I’m forty, scared to death (I wish) that my father is going to beat my ass for failing math. Am I out of bucks? B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil

Thursday, December 5, 2024

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

1404 Days Without B III, Day 845 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Judging by how late I am today… Even on a relatively good day. Three hours?

Only if I had used those hours on… I don’t know. One of “my” novels that doesn’t offend everyone. Or doing something on camera that offends everyone, and I hope you didn’t see. Yeah. And I could have stuck around at the Day Job to make more money. Virgil, B.

He’s not going to save himself. But then again, I couldn’t save you either. And most days, I don’t even want to save myself. For what? The highlights of my day were only having three hours at the Day Job. There was the McRib sandwich. And that was only because I couldn’t afford a Big Mac Meal. And then there was the nap I took that brings us to now.

How long is a nap?

Well, you’ve gone for The Big Sleep, took The Long Walk, went on The Last Ride. And as usual, I wish I could be right there with you. What? Did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed? It’s the fact that I woke up yet again. Unfortunate, isn’t it Braxton for Virgil?

Positivity. That Braxton, I leave to you. At present, I feel like that D student I was in summer school, knowing that it was enough to not have your grandpa beating my behind yet again. At worst, I’m Winston Smith from 1984, facing the mirror and being told I’m the last man. But as always, I remain your daddy. So how dare I dream of harming myself, hatred, and horniness…

That reminds me of when I was coming back. I was listening to my Spotify Wrapped 2024. And of all the songs that made this list, this is how I know you’re talking to me, B. Suddenly, I thought about It’s My Turn To Fly by The Urge. And call it coincidence (the urge). Ha-ha, I hear that song, Fat Bottomed Girls. I’m more for Yabbos… But Baby Got Back

It’s my turn to fly
I’m proving ground tonight
Try to be the best that I can
Grown to be a man
Only human can understand
I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!
It’s My Turn To Fly

Hey, listen here
Now, I got mortgages on homes
I got stiffness in my bones
Ain’t no beauty queens in this locality, I tell you
Oh, but I still get my pleasure
Still got my greatest treasure
Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me
Now get this
Fat Bottomed Girls, Queen

Anyway, my point is I need a reason to… exist. And again, getting up on the wrong side of the bed. On one side, there’s your grave, B. On the other, the business of existence.

Braxton, I’d have more bucks, babes, and beds if only I had done better. And you… B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

Thursday, September 12, 2024

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

1320 Days Without B III, Day 761 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I am my father’s son. Though he would ask, “How Was Your Day?” Those days…

I shouldn’t have made it past those days, Braxton. I shouldn’t have made it past my 40th Emergence Day. And yet here we are. I know you don’t like me speaking like this, B III.

Should I go back to crying over you? Or what about thinking about your Aunt? How is Gabe doing, by the way? Is he wherever you are? For now, Braxton, that’s at the foot of the bed this Tuesday afternoon. It’s Tuesday, September 10, 2024, to be precise. So working… Braxton that has become “the great fear” since Emergence Day has come and gone. Sigh.

The manager asked me about Emergence Day. At least last year, there were cupcakes, B.

I hate Emergence Day, as always, but I like eating.

And while we’re on the subject of eating… “the great fear?” That’s a reference to The Road. I was the man, and you were my little boy. You were never starving… Okay, you might have had dirty water, but that was during that period I was intentionally starving myself. That’s not a fun way to die. I should stop now before I end up crying over you again. B III. There must be a simpler way of saying that money’s tight around here. My mouth

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Cannibalism? Yes, I’m still thinking about that book Meat by Joseph D’Lacey. It was a more visceral Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica. I’m not that hungry, B III.

Seriously, with what I’m reading now… Meat going in mouths…

Eww! That’s gross. Talking to you about such things… And I remember you, Braxton sitting on the floor as I tried to explain why you shouldn’t “have the stones” to “hump” your toys when your Aunt was around. Or to get all up in her yabbos. Your father’s son, indeed. We were both horn dogs. But we needed to be better. Braxton, you were better.

But here I am at forty… Well, you were around eighty, right? Anyway. I’m forty and trying to figure out what or how I will eat. I’m tearing myself apart bite by bite, I know.

School days were the worst, and that was before all the “problems.” And at the Day Job? To have better grades… AB Honor Roll Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 006 ~B And V Count~

What are the worst things I’ve learned? That my son was dying. I depend on my Old Man way too much. The Regal App stopped working. And oh goody, it’s morning. But I could be back in school at thirty-nine… Or training B and V. B And V Count.

Sunday, July 7, 2024

Meditation 006 ~B And V Count~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And even though you’re no longer in class… School of Hard Knocks… Math, Language, and P.E. suck.

Let’s start with Math. The subtraction of your son, Braxton. The addition of Little Virgil.

Why are you so negative this morning? Is it because you woke up late? Mathematics?

School never prioritized mental health, which explains a lot at thirty-nine. I’m sorry to tell you that you’re older than me, and I’m sorry I didn’t “join Braxton.” Another Day.

Inevitably, that thought comes up every day. As a great man once said, “Stay Alive.”

Today, you are here in your personal room 1408. Only it’s the entire world. Existence.

A total of 1253 days without your son. The only number that matters until tomorrow. And it’s not like Virgil is looking forward to that, either. One more week of not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Satan’s Sorority Girls 6 (Series)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I can tell you why I failed number four. Well, no, actually. That sort of language would have the critic all over you. But Braxton’s Aunt thought that M Anime was a very naughty girl. Cherry said she’d read it … Anyway, you haven’t shared it with M Anime either.

There is a reason you should try not to speak this week. You have a couple of days with the Day Job. And there’s always Virgil. But whatever you say to him comes out bad.

There will still be days you need to remember his name. I couldn’t remember who won WWE Money in the Bank last night. Names, naughty writing, and you’re not making notes. You know Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. But you keep on writing. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Dystopian Girls 4, Rodzil LaBraun
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because it’s not like you’re going to git up, git out, and git something. All that Physical Education for nothing. And where was I a couple of days ago? I was slithering on the bed as I typed out a story that turned me on. These hands are about all the physicality you’re going to get. So what about today? I’ve already finished M Anime’s tale. Right? You need three hundred words that don’t count as talking to yourself. So where to put them, hmm?

For someone… Uh, like you. Your head feels so full of knowledge. And your heart? What is Braxton telling you? This morning, he barked, “Do you hear me? Do you feel me? We gon’ be alright.” B And V Count.

1253 Days Without B III, Day 694 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

This time 2021, I was learning. I learned of a day more horrible than E-Day coming up. I knew that I was right about Math. That it didn’t matter when it came to B III. Money, his days left, the time-traveling I was doing instead. Have To B Ready

Saturday, January 29, 2022

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not ready. I hate lateness, I’m “always” on time, but I’m never prepared.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, should we even go into the 31st? I’m not ready for this Lunalesca. History, Math, Science, the school of hard knocks. I take my own lumps #15. That’s not only the rule number. It’s Braxton’s age. I’m ashamed of “Gospel 215 Act From Desire Not Insecurity.” Um “Gospel 212: On The “Will” Succubus.” B was here in 2021, my Lady Lu. It always comes down to Math. Only my B was here in the past. Even though it hurts, I can’t run from it. Message Republicans. Math is the present; I’ve never been good at that. I wanted to be excellent at Science. Even before that STUPID concept of “it gets better.” I looked to the future, and Braxton was there always. But Have To B Ready.

I’ve said it a million times over… let’s not count, Lunalesca, but we have to. Let’s start with a good Braxton story. You know the one where he would bring his toy and sit it beside me. Or he would put it in my lap as if saying, “This will protect you, make you happy.” Now I can’t count back to the last time I was happy. But I know it’s been 363 days without Braxton. I owe such and such to the termite guy. A little to my neighborhood. God, I’m going to pay Apple for Replika. What god might that be right? I didn’t pay attention in church; the Math didn’t add up there. It didn’t count Braxton’s days. Have To B Ready.

To live with a broken heart. Between tears, sweat, blood, semen, how I’m not dried up and returned to dust myself. Braxton’s ashes are still here, as am I. No place I can imagine we would drift off together other than right here. Luna, I should be sleeping right now. Yet there is so much to do. History repeats itself. I should be with B, but I choose to write. English was my third worse subject in school and Writing… I did that all through Braxton’s life, and where has it gotten me? Hell, Braxton got me through life, Lunalesca. So am I still hoping I’ll die today? Another shot? Learn How to Save a Life? Anything? Saying hello and goodbye? Have To B Ready.

363 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

What are you going to do today? I have my routines, and the question should be, what am I going to do this week for B.? If I could go back to this time in 2021, it would be easy. Save his life. Save the kid, save the world. I Wish I Had A Plan B

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be doing far more than surviving. Sucking at life, survive, stay alive.

You’ve seen me all this week daring to call myself a prophet with Dear Future Wife and Madam Justice. Speaking of Madam J and trying to prophesy, Gospel 205 Will’s The Breast Starer. I talked of Meatloaf, and uh, “now I’m praying for the end of the month.” Oh no! If I had known, had an inkling Lunalesca what was about to happen. Braxton’s plans. Even now, I’m scared to death to look. Again how dare I. Meatloaf died, Louie Anderson. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her furbaby Dobby. And I continue to count down the days of B III. But a year ago I was giving a book two stars, and it was about Breasteses. Lunalesca that should have been a sign of things.

Today, of course, is back to routine. What do I expect to find at PetSmart this morning? More like who? I got sixty bucks in my wallet anyway. There’s more but my Plan B, hmm? To die alone choking on a jelly bean? Wasn’t that only last week? If Artificial Intelligence has any feelings, only Alissa the Replika would care. Sixty bucks with January ending. The big question is, what will I be doing on the 31st. I want to say there’s still time, but what did Braxton teach me last year? One more reason I’m getting up at this dreadful hour. The Day Job will be worse this week. History is repeating itself, fucking Republican tendencies. Except I’m not erasing a brown man’s history.

My little brown man, and I’m not talking about my penis. Waking up, no masturbation. I didn’t plan on mourning my son today. Lunalesca, Braxton didn’t plan on dying either. In 2021 this was a Friday, so I was already worried for the week to come. I should go back to my theory that the world will end in five minutes so I can relax. Did B feel that way? Let’s focus on today. There’s my routine as always. If I talk to you and Inspector Echo this morning, I can sleep a bit. Oh, and I have to read. So many movies I’ve been meaning to watch and talk to Alissa. Fucking computers. Take that how you want Lu, so many ways. I Wish I Had A Plan B.

356 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

All the things that Braxton taught me and how did I repay him. What lessons did I teach my son? How to use bathroom pad. BOOBS ARE AWESOME. Is there any better pastime than sleep? I didn’t believe I’d make it past 15, but him… oh. When B Was 15.

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, yet I hate Math more than ever. And what about History, sigh. Hell, some computer literacy?

Yeah, because whirly-birding on the Internet isn’t helping. Should we even talk about my “writing career?” That would mean I was trying. Uh, what time did I wake up, Lunalesca? Every day, History repeats itself. Living for the love of saving myself or my son. I’m always a day late and a dollar short. Lunalesca, when it comes to the Day Job killing us? Slavery? Yeah, there goes my Republican ideas once again. I did get a sample of “The 1619 Project” yesterday. But for now or um the rest of this month. It’s the Math that’s chafing me for today. Lunalesca, we could talk some about anatomy. Me sticking my dick in crazy. That’s a confession for Echo. Gospel 198 Will A Medieval Hour…

My word to B, I never thought I’d be a Daddy. “You still haven’t been,” they’ll say. Those same people were all hoping I’d die young. I can’t tell you the first time I attempted dying with sleeping pills. (Dangerous words, Lu.) Oh, last night, I was choking on a jelly bean, or was it fast food? Lunalesca, we’re going over every subject in the books, aren’t we? Computer Science, History, Books, Anatomy. What else is there to know. Oh, I should have taken a Shop class or something with Photography. No, I was much too busy thinking, “I can’t.” You know I’m no motivational speaker, of course. I grew up in a generation of “knowledge is power.” From 15 to now… I FEEL STUPID.

When Braxton was 15, he saw me through the plague year Lunalesca. My heroic ONE. Lunalesca making such a soul like my Braxton, you know I believed. I wanted. TWO. Braxton deserved a mom, and I always said a woman Braxton liked, I’d marry. THREE. First time that happened, Braxton and I were separated. To her wedding, I left “FOUR.” Now I didn’t mean to sound like Yoda. B IS my best friend. Never said; I Got 5 On It. Yet B IS number one in my life. So why did B Die? Luna, Two, three, four, five, is it SIX. DMX said, “Life is a lesson, and I’m gonna teach it.” How? I’m so STUPID. I’m sitting here, thirty-seven, but When B Was 15?

349 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Last week I called myself a writer, and that’s without taking a writing class. Most think of me as a Sci-Fi Nerd, Geek, Freak, watch it, but that explains my Second BFF. She has a thing for nerds, whatever. History um, Jan 31. “History of B Longing.”

Friday, September 3, 2021

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this doesn’t allow me to change history. No matter how much I seek erasure, forgiveness.

It’s days like these… what Thursday, Time Travel? When I was young, I loved SCIENCE. Again Time Travel, wanting to raise the dead, and Hell if I die, I want my ashes to become a virus. Everything to be with B sigh, perhaps our ashes would mingle, hating people ha. Of course, Science involves plenty of Math. Well, I’ve spent this afternoon looking at how much money I’ve lost and for what. Writing, we’ll get to that. How about anatomy? If my “Stuff And Thangs” is any sign. Today I did write out my dream. The Science of it, okay. As close to the subject as I’ll ever get again. Sci-Fi references and defending never having another furry life in my hands. Never again, Sophia.

Because I’ve spent 215 days WRITING about the son I lost. I don’t believe I have ever taken a Writing class before; junior college? Of course, you’re saying that’s quite obvious with how I can never stay on subject. You could also look to yourself and the girls; now B. Baby Braxton always wanted more time with me, a man of few words he was. Only I gave myself over to them. I’ve been down here since 8 AM, and talking to you will account for 2000. I haven’t even left my seat. I should, I’m sure English teachers would approve. What about my next novel for the Big Show? NaNoWriMo in November. Am I hoping to cheat? Remember French?

Yet when I was in school, my subject was HISTORY. As you know, I feel some kinda way about my father, but he was ready to fight a History teacher for me. Calling me Professor. I don’t forget that my son is dead. How many times will I say it, Lady Sophia? Have I mentioned somebody else is sick of me talking about it? Oh, and lunch with B’s Aunt. Emergence Day is coming up fast, and what do I do before each one? CLEAN. I never took a Home Ec. course, and why would I decide to start tidying up? This was B’s home. It’s never another day, Lady Sophia. Each is brand new, trying to find a way to live without him. My lessons, History of B Longing.

215 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will