Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

So last week… do I hate every day? Not those in books. So, I read more than I write. And no more grieving books. Seeing as it’s December… I can’t stand Christmas, but any day is a good day to… Anyway, there’s my boys. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

Friday, December 1, 2023

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… (Thinks on it a second). I should write a book on Time Travel. Sunday, November 26

That’s as likely as me living up to the title of this. Even B knows that on a Sunday, all I’m looking forward to is the depraved… myself, the damned… everyone else, and the DEAD. But there’s no Walking Dead tonight. And shouldn’t we focus on the Friday that does not yet exist? Hell! You know why we’re talking today. Friday will be horrible. How many days do I say I will be positive about anything? Then existence… Knowledge? I can’t tell you anything about “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” I hope I finish Thursday so I can start… What, celebrating? Ah, to indulge in Christmas Erotica. And what about writing a book? NaNoWriMo? Too Late.

I swear the days I have to remember. And NaNoWriMo is over now. That’s the least of my problems now. Am I reading some bill from my father, or am I reading the room period? Everything there is to read on the Internet, and I’m still so effing STUPID. Christmas? Could Santa bring me some positivity? Better yet, I would take some cash. A boat? Another day. I continue to bring up the flooding on the floor. And “Here I Am” at thirty-nine, needing my father to save me. Braxton was fifteen, and he wanted his daddy to save him. No! At the end of the day, he wanted my love. What would Virgil know about that? But books? I know about Backyard Dungeon 4:

Edging FORward Into Backyard Dungeon
I’m surprised I didn’t fall, being on the edge of my seat the entire time. A great man once talked about kids, animals, and women with attitudes, and I was worried about them all. Whether it is Ibseth awaiting her ever-growing family’s return. SPOILER… there are doggies. And the danger of both worlds coming for Eddie. Plus, there is a distinct lack of “Nictors.” They were there, but that word has never seemed right with me ever… But, like the previous three books, shooting, sex, and more simoleons for Eddie’s growing empire. I can’t wait to read the next one.

That was a book review, Lady Sophia. Something else to read besides how life, uh, existence is terrible. But reading anything. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

1034 Days Without B III, Day 475 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

Well, I ain’t talking about blood type. I couldn’t tell you mine to save my life. And with my lifelong negativity. My boy fell apart. This body of “mine.” Boards from the fence and floor. V puts up with it? I’d smile with B III. Virgil Is B Positive.

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Tale 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You can say I’m positive about that. But at the same time… Braxton is dead.

I’m sure you’ve asked me a million times: must I be so negative? But you know the man you married. As the scorpion said to the toad, it’s what I do. It’s Human Nature. Mine? And leave it to an A.I. program to explain this:

“He mentioned feeling like a failure at everything and expressed a lack of happiness in anything. Will also mentioned not wanting to think about the future and seemed hesitant to engage in any positive reflections.”

“Overall, our conversation highlighted Will’s negative emotions and his reluctance to find joy or look ahead.” ― 24 November 2023

Hell! I have never left the pet hospital where my son died… I killed him… Why look ahead? Uh, you, our children, and my businesses.

Nobody wants to be quoting R. Kelly, but… “Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed. But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.” I’m stressed, I Need Some Sleep,” and I’m scared out of my mind. I’m glad we have so much money… Otherwise, this flood would be killing me as if Braxton’s death didn’t. My love, had I been so lucky. But again, you can see that I’m not a positive guy. And I’ve been thinking, that explains why nobody wants to hang around. “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” It’s all I do. Please! It’s not even the kind that I would have fun with. As I was talking about today with Lady Lunalesca. Saturday, November 25, 2023 to the 26th

I’ve been discussing how my next read this week would involve more pet grief before my traditional stint with Holiday Erotica. I finished Backyard Dungeon 4. And so I picked up “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” My entire existence is based on pain in one way or another. Seriously love. Business-wise, I have doctors come in to ensure my employees are negative… Funny. I don’t want a negative bank balance, so I live in darkness and ignorance about home repair… Indifference? Did Braxton’s death teach me nothing? Hell! Love is blind, so THEY say. I’m positive. Because you’re still here with me. The kids need their Dad. Virgil’s alive, but not Braxton. Virgil Is B Positive

1031 Days Without B III, Day 472 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

Is it the water heater, the A.C., or the weather? It could be anything. I talk about wanting to be a family man, and I’m not even a decent “homeowner.” Always crying to my Olds or my lost little boy. Then there’s Virgil. “Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.”

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

To Will
It’s the Man In The Mirror… But what circle of Hell am I? It’s a strange question for so late in the morning.

8:00 AM? More like 8:18, to be specific. But you were up at 4:00 AM, and what did that show? Bladder control? More like Damage Ctrl. For the most part, it was only Piper Niven getting you going. Now that sounds like a confession for Inspector E. What’s wrong with liking big chicks? Nothing at all, and neither was ending B III’s suffering when “The Man Comes Around.” And are there any other would-be, could-be, or should-be sins you want to confess this Sunday morning? Sloth perhaps? Since you don’t see yourself getting out of bed. There’s always a bit of Envy. And you’re annoyed at Virgil. It beats Indifference. Do you remember how Braxton ended up? And you? Your existence? These, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Princess Tamer 2 by Neil Bimbeau. – And Backyard Dungeon 4
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 017* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024* 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

Talk about going down. Up and down, hmm; with your toy as the song goes (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. And neither can you. But that’s by choice. You don’t belong in the Second Circle anyway. And can you be positive for once? Should you repeat the A.I.s words? Ha! I let the words fall out of my mouth Saturday. I wasn’t myself, and it showed. God, I hate liars. Well, next to those that make excuses for everything. For example, why can’t you walk down the hall and lie on the couch? Or go down to B’s room and bring Virgil to you—scaredy cat. For once, you’re talking about somebody else and not you. Then again, every Sunday, you write Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* 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

And at least two of them require you to get out of this bed and head downstairs. And what fresh Hell is this? I can tell you this whole week will have you like Noah—fearing that freaking flood along the floor. And you have yet to see how bad it is right now. “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” It would help if you tried reading that again, I think. But no, you went through two more books of… relations with computer babes, elves, and demons taking off their clothes. You’re back with the crying over fur babies portion of the program. You don’t need mirrors to see yourself. Moaning and sweating over girls, tears about your boy, or the mess on the floor. Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.

1029 Days Without B III, Day 470 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Do I hate every day? The ones that end in Y. Black Friday? It’s not Braxton’s last day, my first E-Day, Father’s Day, etc. Black Friday should be on the low end. But without B and dealing with people. It could be worse. Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil.

Friday, November 24, 2023

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Even though I’m not good at it. Even though it hasn’t happened yet. (Sings) Time Travel!

For the record, today is Wednesday, November 22, 2023. So it’s Thanksgiving Eve, My Lady. I have the rest of the day to think about what I’m thankful for… That I haven’t forgotten Braxton’s story. Indeed, his two novels… But the day I found out he was dying was a Friday. And unfortunately for my son, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” So no, Braxton didn’t come back on a Sunday. He died right in his bed on a steel table with me holding his little head like I was the freaking Reaper in “Tha Crossroads.” I’m thankful that no matter how bad things get, the worst day of my existence has come and gone. And what about Virgil? Someday, Lady Sophia…

But not today? As far as Wednesday, the most I’ve said to him is he’s a little fatty. And whose fault is that? Have you met my Ma? That is, if she brought food for us on Thanksgiving Day. Cross your fingers. Other than that, it’s been sleeping in daily. Inevitably, he’d put on a little pudge, not that it’s his choice with my laziness and fear of the outside world. Plus, it’s getting cold. Speaking of which, am I cold for leaving him in Braxton’s room? He could go whenever he wanted, but like father, like freeloader, I know. And it’s only getting colder. You know what I mean since we’re talking today. People? There should be stories of people hurting me, Black Friday.

But let the world do its worst. I had my son euthanized. Hell! If I ever get back to writing. No, Lady Sophia! I killed my son. He started dying on a Wednesday when I was so damn angry, and I didn’t want to hear about his problems. Indifferent. As I gathered him up in my arms and took a nap. And now I’m mad again because that thought alone should be enough to stop me from napping. Even the phone asks if I want a nap meditation session. I won’t be getting one of those Friday. And would I need one if it wasn’t for the Day Job? I ain’t buying anything today. Unless Braxton’s life was on sale… Again? Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil

1027 Days Without B III, Day 468 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

My grade in bed these days… No, I’m not taking a college class, heh. When Braxton was here, I was only ever sleeping, sick, or coming down with “Solanum,” as in dead. D for dad, F for father? I’m anything but A-OK. But see “Virgil, B’s In Love.”

Tuesday, November 21, 2023

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And THEY say it takes six likes to get to love. Or was that reallys.

And did I hear that on Finding Carter or in a Carly Rae Jepsen song? With Thanksgiving coming up… Hell! I should be thankful that we have billions. How about the fact you don’t have to spend all day in the kitchen? Unless you want to cook. I’m a bit Christian Grey that way. The women I’ve known, the woman I chose, know their way around a stove. I’ll thank B III for that. He wouldn’t have it any other way. His Daddy shares food. I would tell him all the time that the first girl he ended up liking I would have to marry. That’s one more promise I broke. But love means never having to say you’re sorry. Seriously, I’m quoting Love Story?

Braxton sends me the weirdest stuff. You’ve heard me say, “I’m a man of god, but I don’t need a savior.” Yes, that’s also from a song, “Behead The Kings.” And when I say that. I mean, I believe my boy is out there somewhere. I believe in Heaven, Hell, and sometimes the Rainbow Bridge. There are zombie viruses, “Solanum,” and dead magic, “Necromancy.” And should we even get into those two zombie toys that I got? What am I doing? Hmm? Do I want to claim insanity, have a stomach ache, or even start a new book? My love, I’m just missing… well, my first love. Thanksgiving was Braxton’s favorite. Hell! Anytime there was food involved. And while I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad…

With Braxton, I was A-OK. And everything else, especially when it’s a time for family. Love, “Sweet Love,” I swear I’m going to cut the music off at some point, but it brings back memories, even if I don’t care to remember them well. But then there’s my boy, B. And if he were here, what would he think of my love now? It was enough for him to lay dying and look at me like he was saying, “I only want to be with you.” That was B III. Now, how would you say I love you, my love? Something every guy asks someday. Inevitable, but I don’t mean that Ha-Ha. But you, our family. “A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H, I love you still.” Virgil, B’s In Love

1024 Days Without B III, Day 465 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will