Tag: Virgil

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

WillLeave a comment

Am I ready to live or exist? Am I ready to read about life? Last week, I read of a guy and a corpse. Now, there’s a guy, a corpse, and a witch coven. People celebrate Christmas… now. I celebrate Halloween? Effing dead. Never Ready. Read… Ready… B, V.

Friday, November 3, 2023

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But I would rather write you a few. Hell! I should have written several. Next Week?

It’s like listening to Succubus Lord for… I don’t know how many times by now. But according to Audible, it’s been a lot. And you know what I want to say about them. Only I go back and forth on this whole censorship thing. I wish I could say certain things and call it free speech. It’s why I keep my mouth shut, ears filled and lost fifteen bucks. Meh. Yet opening my eyes and reading. It didn’t occur to me to read all those pet loss books while Braxton was dying. He was going to live. Sophia, that’s where faith lays, with B III. But at the same time, I read as I didn’t want to worry about it with B crossing the bridge.

Now, why do I bring this up today? Well, besides the fact that I talk about B III every day. If I had to express all my fears, we would be here, My Lady. Uh, “EVERYTHING” isn’t that hard to say? Writing it? Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t write Braxton’s name one day. Hmm? Before I decide to start scanning years sniffle worth of blogs. Again, what’s with today? It’s how I stayed ahead to watch my boy cross over. And yet, I’m not ready to step out of this bed. One step towards life or even a better existence at this point. And as I say that, My Lady. There was a zombie package at the door. A package for my package. Uh gross.

I really didn’t make a joke about “my” new toys, did I? My Lady, that’s the only thing I’m ever ready for. I’m always ready to get some. So, when was the last time that happened? This is more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but I’m always ready to read the truth. The last time I ever “got some” would be around seven years ago. Never in this house!!! And I can’t even blame that on Braxton. When it came to Carolina Bound, the woman I would make his honorary aunt since she’s like a sister to me. My son did try to play wingman. Did I ever read to him about moms? Not even how girls became mothers. Nope. Read… Ready… B, V

1006 Days Without B III, Day 447 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

WillLeave a comment

People want a reset button. I don’t. I’ll wait for someone to push the wrong one, as I’m too lazy to play the game. And This Is America where even doors are an issue, Mr. Cruz. I try not to push people’s buttons, but B, V. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

1005 Days Without B III, Day 446 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only been seven hours, and I’m already counting today as a loss. Nothing new.

Speaking of which, “my” bank account. Not that we talked about that much, Little B. Every day, you had a roof over your head, a collar around your neck, food in your bowl, and… Ain’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m your child. You had me. I didn’t ask to be here. Whatever happened to that video, Braxton? Were you even here during that? The things I need to give up. But no worries, B III, it will never be Virgil Vivi. He’s here. Still collarless… May I remind you how you’d sometimes get your nail stuck in yours? And with all the button pushing, getting your collar off was just the worst. Did I finally find something I would not like to repeat?

Hell! To me, that’s called breathing. This is one more reason this week’s been horrible. All the time in the world, Braxton. And what have I done with it? I just push a button, son. And as the song goes, “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Or at least I can pretend a lot B. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” That is not a game Virgil likes to play. Then again, I’m at the dining room table while his pillow is in the wash. Vomiting. Not this again, B. Especially with how next week will be. Fear, Pain? I’ll never forget the one when you left me here all alone. Didn’t I say Virgil’s here… How do I forgive myself? Just push a button.

But not one of these buttons has the word LIVE on the front. And even if one did B III… There’s always the one that sends me right back to sleep. We’re approaching 9:00 AM. Before I try lying away, you know what begins in November. NaNoWriMo? Um, No F… And I already screwed that up. I should wear pants with buttons more often. Only, it’s never a good thing anytime I leave the house, except for running with your Aunt Carolina. I hope you’re checking in on her and the doctors. There are so many buttons to push I could never be one. Only I’m not much of a writer either. Because existing Braxton, without your button nose, really sucks. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

If I’d earned a few… a lot of A’s, I’d have a grade A existence. Schools don’t have scholarships for zombie tales or HaremLit. And while I love my boy and took Virgil in, I hate Math. So much for my plans to be a vet. A writer? “Getting A B, Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m a righteous man. How about a writer or reader?

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which WAS usually hard on Braxton and me. Usually, it means another unpublished book. And with two months out from E-Day. So, ten months away from being forty? I swear I thought I was afraid before Inspector Echo. Halloween was yesterday. And what spooky things did I do with the night, dear Echo? Well, I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. And wanted to break with Grayson and Julia. Frightening? Inspector Echo, you know November is the month guys say NO to specific activities. But yeah, I watched Halloween Havoc for the following reason. Say it with me, Inspector. YABBOS! I should have listened to Braxton. The best legs, breasts, and thighs come from a bucket of chicken, Inspector.

Then maybe, just maybe, I would have more energy to write. And more time, Inspector. Hell! I could have a new subject to write about. I get F’s in everything else. That is if I let people peruse it, got it published, and didn’t use it as a punishment device. Writing poetry and prose meant so much more once upon a time. Once I got out of school, that is. Was it only 2020 2021 that I figured it was the way out for Braxton and me to live? Ha-Ha! Braxton found his way out, but what about me? Selfish much? It is inevitable, Inspector. Indifference killed my boy because I had to keep my anger at the Day Job far away from him, always.

Then there was my stupidity. I bought some Halloween “cool devices” from a particular company this week. Did I mention how my monster of choice has always been the Dead?

And now I’m reading a bill on zombie toys. Doesn’t Virgil need more stuff, Inspector? And I could be looking up ideas for stories, but would they be published somehow? Inspector, if I want a good horror story, I could look at The Day Job. And all the things I need to sign up for to continue to be one of The Walking Dead. For V’s sake, sigh. And last night, I got a message from M Anime assuring me, “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone.” Not surprising. But my boys? Getting A B, Virgil.

1004 Days Without B III, Day 445 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

WillLeave a comment

Do you want to see a ghost? Been there, done that. Do I want to see a zombie? It’s more like I want to see a lot more. And there’s also Animatronics. But there’s no need for a mask tonight. I’ll be staying in alone. Well, V’s here too. “A MASK B, V.”

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. It’s why I don’t hide anything from you. Why I hate myself. And I like Creed.

The movie? I’ve only seen the first. And parts of the second. But you know I’m talking about the band.

“If I had just one wish, only one demand

I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands” ― With Arms Wide Open, Creed

I know it’s not a song having to do with Halloween. Happy Halloween! If I wasn’t in a messed up space right now. Hell! I should check where I was in 2021 and 2022, love. Messing around on Instagram and Facebook, I saw something about A Day of the Dead for fur babies on the 27th. Of course, I missed it. And now I’m reading up on the “official” Day of the Dead. But other than my firstborn son, who do I miss? I’m still cringing about how I stunk up my granddaddy’s funeral. Worse than his corpse? That’s not cool to say, I know.

Then again, I make you lie with a corpse every night. Two, if I’m being honest with Braxton’s remains on the nightstand. You’re the only one who loves the Dead as much as me. (Swoons). Maybe that should be your Halloween costume this year… Trinity. Because the man you love would be The One. Which means that I can’t be dead. But even now, sigh. I want to be with my boy. At least that’s what my face tells me every morning I wake up. But, like most days, I put on a mask and have to become someone else. And that’s the difference between my two boys. Braxton showed me who I could be. Virgil shows what I’ve become. Then you and our family…

Today should be… easier. I get to put on a mask, but even now. To be scary, not too scary. In a minute, I’ll burst out with Mulan’s “Reflection.” Mulan and Shang? That’s an idea. And after today? If there was one thing I liked about COVID, it was the mask. I didn’t have to hate myself for these fake smiles. Oh, I did mention I killed Braxton Barks, hmm. I’ll hide behind books so people can treat me like it’s school, always and forever. “Daddy’s tired.” How many times have I heard you say that as I lie, crying into a pillow? How many days has it been, 1,003? Did we buy candy? I’ve had a sugar crash for days. A MASK B, V

1003 Days Without B III, Day 444 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

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I was arrested once when I was young and STUPID. I’m not young anymore, but STUPIDITY is a virus. I’m infected with it. There’s also Depravity, Fear, and Pain. And for today, at least, Sadness encompasses them all. “Prisons Have Many Different Forms”

Monday, October 30, 2023

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

Three-Hundredth And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… like anything dealing with Time Travel. A dangerous business this is. And what’s my punishment, Dear Madam?

Grounding me, “When We Were Young” was no TV, Internet, and the like —going nowhere? As I was telling Baby B this morning, Thursday, October 26, 2023. I’m not going to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or Purgatory. With that knowledge, I long to die. Why?

Sleeplessness? Now, that would be a punishment. I haven’t taken a nap today. But Hell, Braxton’s been gone 1,002 days. It’s like I’m doing life.

Sexlessness? I might as well be a damn eunuch. I’d say a priest. But only if Braxton were my religion. And there’s no women here.

Simoleons aren’t rolling in like they did the last few weeks, sigh. I barely made a hundred dollars. These are like confessions for Inspector Echo, Madam —my Dirty Little Secret.

Secrets, to be fair. And silence is one Hell of a prison. This is why I’ve been all about buying audiobooks. eBooks, and stealing “ideas” from X/Twitter. Things “Things That Make You Go, Hmm.” It’s more like things that make you moan and other noises…

Sadness though… That’s the one thing that has been loud and clear. If I hadn’t stopped crying at some point, I’m sure I would have drowned in my tears by now. Have I cried today? At the moment, I feel like crying. Only it’s not 100% Braxton. I mentioned I didn’t get a nap and was so frustrated this morning that I’m back to Day One-ish. Being a slave to certain addictions makes me sick and tired. It’s pretty sad.

It’s like when you hear an icon talking about a crime. And you know for a fact, yeah, I did that. Hell! I’ll do that tomorrow and the next day. It’s how certain people look at history, knowing they want to do such things and then trying to claim innocence.

Madam, why else do you think I read all those books on people who had to make “the decision” for their fur babies? You exist with that choice and then in the presence of their absence. It’s always and forever. And yet, you get to walk away from the crime. I remember my perp walk from Banfield and the aisle of PetSmart. I’ve never left.

What are my other crimes? Prisons Have Many Different Forms.

1002 Days Without B III, Day 443 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 120 ~B Wear Failure Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Things I fail at. I can’t show gratitude for opening my eyes. I’m never positive about anything except being negative. I fail to be a “Law Abiding Citizen.” And I fail to escape humiliation by my own hand. A badge of honor? B Wear Failure Virgil

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Tale 120 ~B Wear Failure Virgil~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And how long will you look at failure? Today is Friday, October 27, 2023. So close enough…

You have Braxton’s old black hoodie. And you’re wearing his picture and a pendant full of his ashes. All you need to do now is switch your shirt and put on your jeans, and then? NOTHING! You’ll still be a failure! I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but as I said sometime this week, anger is more useful than despair. And the past few days have been all despair. Hell! This morning was the perfect example. Didn’t I say I was swearing off sleeping? Okay, more like naps. So, what did I do from 9:20 AM to 9:40 AM? It’s pretty sad, so early. When you’re asleep, the monsters can’t get you. “I look at them, and we look at him.” Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Heather by G.C. McKay (Or…)
    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 014 No Fap)* Real Girls Are An Exception.
    Failed
  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

This list, my boys, me, myself, and I. It’s crazy, insanity, or as THEY say, Hell is repetition. And I relive as you will the same failure again and again, tearing up because of this. Braxton is dead. Dying on a Sunday doesn’t make everyone terrible. Only the truth. Please! “I want the truth!” You can’t handle the truth! So, unknown failures are blessings. And let’s not forget how I worship the dead. As you will, since Fear The Walking Dead is on tonight. Oh! The things I remember. A dead son, list, and show all about corpses, ha! If it’s any consolation, I know I’ve finished Heather by G.C. McKay. Horrible choice of words with what was done to Heather, Freya. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Satan’s Sorority Girls 3 (Or something)
  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 000 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

So the fact that such a book is… um, I won’t say. But I’m failing as a human being. Hmm. Only I’m suggesting we go burning it. But what about this hoodie? Hell! Burned Braxton. Now, that was pretty dark. Only you wear darkness, depression, and depravity. You could go all The Scarlet Letter and wear a big F for failure. Will you? Come on, I know with this week… The fact that we are speaking right now is that no matter what, you are F’ed. It’s why you haven’t given Virgil a collar yet and his tag. You’re not ready to rate an F as a father again. But in everything else? Because you’re not really alive. Neither am I. B Wear Failure, Virgil.

1001 Days Without B III, Day 442 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

So, 1,000 Days since Braxton’s been gone? Why does it hurt more to think of these 1,000 Days? And the 15 years that I spent with him? Than the 39 years of “my” existence, I’ve wasted? Over 1,000 words, never can say goodbye. Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Sigh. If I were, I wouldn’t say I’ve wasted 39 years of existence. But it’s been…

“Though a thousand words
Have never been spoken.”
1000 Words

1,000 Days. Lady Lu, I have let 1,000 Days negate the 15 years I spent with my son, B III. And I know it’s not right, fair, or just. But when have I ever been right? Or even been a fan of Math? It doesn’t sound like a lot. Hell! To me, it’s one messed up excuse to sit here. 1,000 Days AND more. That is what terrifies me. And it should scare Virgil to death as well. Seeing as how he’s been here for 441 Days of them. But how many more, Lady Lu? I was supposed to be up at 8:00 AM to take him outside. So why haven’t I? I’ll tell you. Because I know he’s hungry, and where’s his dinner, Lunalesca?

1,000 Days, time loses all meaning. So breakfast, lunch, um, ok, a snack Lady Lunalesca? At least I can say it’s not anger or lust that holds me back. It’s only shame and sloth now. And in Virgil’s 441 Days here, I’m sure he has cried over 1,000 times. It only took me ignoring Braxton’s cries once for him to end up “resting in a box. Lunalesca, the lesson. 1,000 Days later, I haven’t learned a damn thing. I would say 1,000 Yabbos later. But we both know I’ve seen more than 1,000. And that’s only with October. With me almost being 40… again, it’s October, but my latest E-Day continues to haunt me. Tis the season, isn’t it, Lu? But Braxton Barks Bradford’s ghost…

1,000 Days. I don’t know what I’m trying to do anymore. Do I want to forget him? No, not ever. So why have I procrastinated by reading over 1,000 words from all these emails? Lunalesca, I’ve been lamenting that I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year. But if I write 400 words a year, that’s 146,000 words. Lady Lunalesca, I’m doing nearly three NaNoWriMo challenges a year. And what have any of those words ever gotten, Luna? 1,000 Days saying goodbye to my son? Only I’ve never found Acceptance, Lady Luna. The other day, I petted V’s head and said, “You’re a good boy, B.” So, 1,000 days, ha. Days, words, dollars. One thousand more won’t bring Braxton back to me… Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

1,000 Days Without B III, Day 441 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

WillLeave a comment

I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

WillLeave a comment

What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will