Fat Girl by A. Dakala

Tesia Feely wasn’t always a big girl. Over the years of being in a verbally abusive relationship she seem to allow herself to binge eat when stressed out over bullshit.

“This working out in the gym after work is not working for me for Sharon.” “I feel like everybody in there is staring at me; wondering is the big girl going make it or pass out.” “I’m Comfort being like I am; it just gets a little uncomfortable when I’m trying to look cute at times in my clothes.” “My hair is always the bomb, my skin is flawless and I’m a big girl with a big butt.” “What man doesn’t want a bitch like that.” “Girl you got it going on, it’s your health I’m worried about; atleast walk and eat better and if some guys love that about you why can’t you keep a man?” said Sharon. “Girl I hear you, but I’m not into the organic foods, soy milk and a bitch definitely is not turning into a vegetarian, I love my meat; so now what?” We are going to walk daily, incorporate more walking, eliminate the sodas and sugars and minimize the alcohol consumption. “Oh hell no, you trying to give a bitch a migraine, heart attack and the munchies.”

I love my red wine after a crazy day of working with them jealous hoes. “I didn’t say stop drinking, just minimize how much consume.” “I hear you Sharon, let’s talk about this later over a medium well steak and some wine, I’m starving.” Girl you are too much, you should be a comedian.

Over the next few weeks Tesia committed to most of the things Sharon suggested surprisingly enough. In a matter of two weeks the results started to show.

Good morning Sharon. Tesia are you okay this morning, I’ve been calling you all morning; that’s unlike you not to pick up. Girl, I’m so damn depressed today. Why? I can’t seem to fit into none of my clothes; everything is too big now that I’m losing weight and inches. You know that three hundred dollar AlakaD skirt I bought two months ago, is too damn big. I held it up and it looked like curtains. Sharon started cracking up laughing. You are a fool Tes. I tell you what let’s go shopping after work, you can pick out a few outfits on me. “Now you talking; can a big girl get some shoes too, you know that’s what a complete outfit is” said Tesia.

Throughout the work day, everyone was complimenting Tesia on her new look. Even one of the Account Executives she once had her eye on had to give her a double look as she walked passed him; glowing. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Tesia, I love that perfume that you’re wearing and by the way; you looking great.” Thank you Mr. Hall” “Call me Steven” he said. Okay, Mr. Hall. Tesia continued walking with her head held high. The weight loss didn’t change Tesia, the people around Tesia changed.

That evening after shopping with Sharon, they both decided to go to a happy hour at the Fellaship Cigar Bar. This was an upscale cigar bar that was own by Cam Newton, the quarterback of the Carolina Panthers. Both women were looking good in their new outfits and just out to enjoy themselves with no expectations or intentions.

Not one or two but every man in the build at some point looked there way; some smiled and others threw up their glasses as a sign of how are you. Once they were seated, it didn’t take long for the first man to make his move. Over two rounds of drinks, a couple of Cuban cigars and already two hours of enjoying themselves; therechad been over 10 men they turned down. They were either, too aggressive, couldn’t take their eyes off the breast, had playboy tendencies or just wasn’t attractive. Until Tesia notice one guy that would look over at her from time to time and smile. A thick neck, big guy, sort of like a linebacker. He sat at a table alone, but guys coming in was walking up to him shaking his hand and patting him on the back. He never once got up, just enjoying his drinks and cigar. When the waitress came over to check on Tesia and Sharon; they asked who was he. The waitress responded, “Oh that’s Ezell Crawford, he’s a defensive lineman for the Carolina Panthers.” “By the way, he wanted to know what were you ladies drinking, next round on him and also girlfriend wearing the dark blue; he told me to tell you the color you wearing looks gorgeous on you.” Tesia, who he was referring too, jumped out of her chair and made her way over to thank him in person. It wasn’t long before he was joining the ladies in their area. Ezell and Tesia seem to hit it off with each other; I mean you couldn’t get a sheet of notebook paper in between them; as they were sitting right under each other for the next three hours. He was truly a good looking, well mannered gentle giant. You could tell he was well respected, he came over and joined us for a few mintues. Ezell introduced us but his special introduction for Tesia was, “This is going be Mrs. Crawford oneday” he told Cam. Cam agreed with him and added; “ya’ll would look good together too, seriously, we can double date.” Tesia was all smiles, I think she lost 20 pounds blushing and I gained 10 pounds feeling like the Uber driver that got her there.

Over next several weeks and months, Ezell and Tesia seen each other everyday, infact Carolina is playing Arizona this weekend and we’re boarding the plane now. I guess I’m going to be the third wheel until I find someone; until then I’m happy for my friend Tesia Feely-Crawford. Oh yes, he popped the question six months into their relationship and now she’s living like a Boss, you go Phat girl!

Then the unplanned unthinkable happened.

“Andrea Latoya Denice Scott Murphy Brown (Acrimony)” by A.Dakala

Sometimes you have to know when to walk away with a clean slate. Love hurts like a fresh scar, but over time wounds do heal. See when you throw bullets by hand without using a gun, the damages are repairable. No one sees your dream when they are still dreaming, you can’t believe in others when you don’t believe in yourself. Finally, how can you love someone  when you never been loved?

We met ackwardly but seem to hit it off quickly. Both tired of the bullshit we endured over the years dealing with unstable, selfish and self center individuals. Of course I overlooked the fact that the only wall between them and their past was a legal separation and a pending divorce or the fact that her life was valued on her friends opinions. Deep down I had my doubts especially when I would mention marriage, it was like krytonite to her. I had to understand that she did have two fail marriages; both resulted in cheating and the birth of other kids. So deep down she was a walking time bomb ready to explode.

When we got together it was magical, our sex was a cross between sexual fantasies and soft porn. No hold bars, nothing was off limits. Our kisses were hotter than the wildfires out in California. It didn’t take long to get us started all we needed was eye contact.

As the days, weeks and months grew longer; so did our love for each other. We found ourselves sexing every day, spending every evening together. We drunk bottles of wine, glass after glass and sexed until we were exhausted from multiple orgasms.

There was another side that I started not to like and that was the materialistic side, that made her feel she needed to buy expensive brands because her friends were. Unnecessary spending that had me questioning how life would be if we were to settle down. I loved nice things, but not to the point I needed to impress anyone. When she hung out with her friends, the bad influences would kick in. Having a man didn’t matter, the texts would stop, the phone calls didn’t exist. She started to change right in front of me, I saw it from a distance. When I mentioned it, it turned into a argument. Then things hit a dead end on a trip she took back home. Let’s just say, she enjoyed ignoring my texts and phone calls for 4 days while she spend time with her best girlfriend and the married man she was dating and his brother who was my so called girlfriend’s date. He also claimed to be a Pastor who conducted marriage counseling; picture that and he knew she had a man. I won’t go into details, but in 4 days, there were concerts, hotels, airport pick ups and lunch dates all under my nose. Things hoes do, man or woman.

So the relationship ended; for 5 months, and I wasn’t going to be bothered with her. I ignored every text and phone call from her. Until oneday I was caught off guard by an anonymous number. I didn’t want to be dudes, so I entertained the I miss you and I can’t stop thinking of you comments. I knew where it was going, she been out there fucking losers, and realized what she had in me and wanted to get back on home plate. She wanted to see me so bad. For the next two weeks, I played hard to get, then I broke down after the repeated sex talks and titty pics. No lie the pussy was the bomb, but I’m more than sex is what my mind was saying; but my penis was hard headed. What made it worst is that her son was gone to Florida for the summer; staying at her pops. So those sexual nights sneaking in the living, spreading covers on the floor, pulling out the KY jelly, had us in the bedroom for the summer. She would go shower, get out butt naked and instantly I would be turned on. She was all ass and breast.  We didn’t give a damn about the neighbors hearing us, bed post banging against the walls and we breaking masturbating records. Waking up the next morning not sure how or when we fell asleep.

Then reality would kick back in. What did we really have besides sex. At times we were compatible and then we wasn’t. Physically and mentally I was more settled down and out going with making things happen without procrastinating. She wanted to be kid free, like being a mom was a contract and once the kids were off to college her job was over. For me it was the opposite I loved my kids and would continue being a father to them even when they finished college. I loved things about her but I hated things about her as well.

Her trip to Macon I felt would re-connect our bond and it did one night. She was tipsy and I knew it but she wanted sex and we had great sex that night. Her favorite position was doggystyle and this time we recorded it like two porn stars.

The next night she was going out with the bad influencers to a home party. I texted and asked her what was she doing. She replied, “still having dinner and drinks”. That was around 7:30pm, maybe I shouldn’t have made an assumption, but I figured she would call once she was headed back in for the night. Nothing.

So the next morning I sent a text message voicing my opinion about it. We went back and forth, arguing through texts. She said if you want to talk you know how to find me. Hours went by, I really wasn’t going to reach out , but I said let me handle this differently. I sent 3 text messages, hours passed; no response. I picked up the phone and called, it went to voicemail immediately. I said “maybe I’m dialing too fast; I called again, same results. So I called her ass from my other cellphone and she picked up like she was waiting by the phone. “Oh so you blocking me now?” I said. “Well yes, because you seem like you wasn’t going to call me no more” she said. “I said ok, I got you and hung up in her ear!”. I blocked her from having access to me on all levels, emails, social sites etc. Until this day I haven’t spoken to her since, I’m sure she will have a blast at the essence festival with her freak-nik girlfriends. All I can do is wish her the best and thank her for months of us wasting time together just to sex.

Have another glass of wine, my dear.

“God had other plans” by A.Dakala

Everyone in the city of Atlanta was so excited about the Super bowl on Sunday. The entire city wore black and red on that Friday before the game. We even had pre-super bowl pot luck at the job, lots of food; you would have thought it was thanksgiving day.

The night before I had took a laxative and as I was leaving the conference room I made a dash for the men’s bathroom. I totally forgot I took those pills, but my stomach quickly reminded me after the second plate of spicy chicken wings and bake beans.  I was sitting in the bathroom all comfortable and like at home, I pulled out my cellphone to surf the internet enjoying the silence, except for the blower that was turned on.

My mom’s name appeared as an incoming call, it was unlike her to call during the day like that, because normally she would call or text me early in the morning. Once I answered and before she could even open her mouth to say anything, my heart fluttered as if something was wrong. “Anthony, Shawn is in the Trauma unit, they just coded her” she said. “What you mean coded her?”, I replied. “They coded her, they don’t have a pulse and they putting her on a breathing machine”.  Not only did I instantly go into shock mode, but my emotions started to get the best of me. I could barely stop my legs from shaking on the toilet. I saw losing my sister Shawn flash before me in seconds, I could not imagine life without her, my mother, father or brother.  She’s the baby of the family.

I went to sit at my desk to catch my breath; one of the ladies in the office saw the pain through my eyes and asked if I was okay.  I did my best in a crackling voice to explain to her, but the trying to talk and gasp for air at the same time was like being scared unexpectedly.  She ran quickly to my manager and he came over to my office and said pack your things I will take you home. I told him I will be okay, I have to go get my sons and drive to South Carolina. He was worried that I couldn’t drive in a emotional state, but i got myself together enough to make it out of the office into my car. I wanted to release all the anger I had inside, so my steering wheel got a beat down like a five second Mike Tyson fight.

I called everyone in my house an explained what was going on and they all was ready to pack and leave.

So i got the family in the car and we are on the road and this is where things got fuzzy for me. It was a three hour drive to South Carolina and until this day, i don’t remember nothing about the drive there. I couldn’t tell you nothing about the conversations in the car, how fast I was going; i do know i wasn’t speeding. I prayed and talked to God the entire road trip and re-assured me that my sister would be just fine. I was behind the wheel of the car, but God was driving the vehicle.

Once we arrived at the hospital around 7 o’clock, my sister was on a breathing tube, it was very hard for me to see her in that state, but God told me he taking care of her. My mom told me before I arrived she was in a medical induced coma for now. I kid you not I wanted to break down. I refuse to leave the hospital until I seen my sister eyes and heard her voice. By 6 o’clock that Saturday morning, I walked over to her bed and grabbed her hand, “Shawn i’m here now, you can wake up, and i’m not leaving until you do”, I said. A hour later, my sister open her eyes, still heavily medicated, she looked over at me. Her eyes were glassy as if she wanted to cry. I still held onto her hand, “this your brother  Anthony” I said. “If you can hear me squeeze my hand”. She squeezed my hand as tight as she could!

Over the next few hours, I saw my sister go from a breathing tube, to opening her eyes, to squeezing my hand, to writing messages on a note pad, to sitting up straight in the bed, to the breathing tube being removed, to talking to everyone that walked in the room to visit her. Man thinking about it now I cried but I knew God had kept his word, and like a receipt to baking a cake, he had a receipt that required steps to his plan. Though my sister got diagnosis with congested heart failure, years later she is still with us and living life, even better than she was before that day. God I thank you and give you all the praise.

This is not just a story, it’s a spiritual uplifting message that my heart witness and produced.

A.Dakala

 

 

 

Boy Please! By A. Dakala

February 2, 2019; 6 o’clock.

Me and my BFF’s; Shari, Renee and Bonita decided to go to the cabins in the Georgia mountains this weekend, since we didn’t have anything else to do and we all were single now. We all have boy toys to go to in a time of a sexual needs; but nothing serious because any of them were worth settling down with. So as sisters in the name of love; we all decided to break up with all their asses, on the same day at the same damn time.

It’s seems that as the older we got; the harder it was to find a good loving man without having to lose who we were or having to give up our bodies to sex lusters with no goals.

Both men and women at some point in their lives come with so much baggage these days; it’s either baby mama or daddy drama, in between jobs, momma boys or daddy girls, criminal records, no jobs, hustling drugs; hell I could go on and on.

The ones that don’t have extra baggage are unattractive in their own way or no where near qualified to be seen out in public without wanting to attempt to display public affection. I refuse to belittle my qualifications for a steak or seafood dinner date. Why does life have to be so difficult and complicated or is it just me?

So we arrived at the cabins, ready to open up bottles of wine, have a few days of girl talk and see what single men are available for us single women. There was only one issue. It was National LGBT weekend.

Ghost Writer

This is a promotion only.

My new book “Ghost Writer” coming to Atlanta Georgia in June 2019.

If you would like to be in attendance and added to the guest list; please email me your name and email address to:

adakalabooks@gmail.com

A Heart Choice to make by A. Dakala

Waddell Crosby wasn’t your typical African American male with a college degree, tons of street smarts and loved by the ladies. He was the kind of man that a woman could love one night and call her best friend on other days; someone who would have your back and go to war with you whether you was wrong or right. Once Waddell was committed to you he would give you 100% of him; no part time anything in his life with reason.

A single man who could give a woman more than just a materialistic diamond ring or a Tiffany bracelet; he was the kind of man that most women would dream of having. Someone who showed unconditional love whether it was holding her hand while driving, arms locked while walking across the street or kissing on her neck standing in the checkout line at Walmart. Regardless anyone around Waddell would know that he showed his love to whoever he was with; his smile would light up a room; his well-groomed beard was somewhat perfect as if he was modeling his beard for a magazine cover, his cologne scent traveled from block the block. Fahrenheit was his favorite cologne; both men and women would always approached him and compliment him on how good he smelled.

But now there’s a new year approaching; 2019! Waddell is ready to settle down with one special woman in his life. The problem he’s having is he has been dating consistently three different women. There’s been no commitment to either woman just consistently dating, conversing on the phone but he have had sex with all three of them at some point throughout the course of dating them. Each one of these females bring something different to the table that one doesn’t have and now Waddell has to decide on the qualities that these female brings. Which one are branded qualities and which ones are qualities that could make a break a good love relationship.

First there was Fresca Sparkle, she’s sweet as black cherry citrus on a hot summer day but cold as winter. She was smart as Albert Einstein; love to read books and would correct you for using improper grammar as if she was a school teacher wearing Gucci shades standing in high heels. Well educated; holding a master’s degree. She really could have been a doctor. The problem with Fresca; she wasn’t consistent or persistent and couldn’t remember what she did day after day. She wasn’t into fashions, brands didn’t mean nothing to her. A typical day of dressing up for her would be wearing a nice sweatsuit with some flip flops and she would throw her long black hair back into a ponytail but she was sexy as hell though and very beautiful. She reminded me of a California woman cool, calm and collective that just wanted to be loved by a good man. Sex with her was like flipping a coin, some days it was good, some days it was just ok and sometimes it didn’t exist. When we was out on a date we had a great time holding hands, conversing and laughing with each other as if we were best friends and lovers; but there was another side to her that I hated. She always wanted to play the victim never was wrong, always was right and not to mention I caught her in so many lies I just never addressed it, it just wasn’t that serious to me. Another thing that I observed was all of her friends seem to be gay or lesbians.

One thing I did love about her though; no matter what she had my back. She never put her friends before her man even though I truly wasn’t her man but we were dating and she would drop her plans that she had to spend time with me on any given day. Fresca loved cleaning her house always kept it clean very family oriented; that definitely was a plus coming from a man who wanted to have kids and build his own foundation of a family. She paid her bills on time, she didn’t club, she didn’t drink unless it was socially and she never smoked. She was a good girl trying to be better and made it to the scale of wifey material possibly.

Secondly there was Constant Bauman; sexy as hell on the outside, wore the latest fashions, smell good and look good in everything she wore; a true diamond in the rough. Whatever the latest fashion and brands out there where she had it or plan to get it. The problem I had with her was she had low self-esteem and she couldn’t seem to make her own decisions without seeking the advice of her fake friends. Once again another female playing the victim like her shit don’t stink. Another issue I had with her was it seemed that all of her friends around her were gay or lesbians even though she claimed that she was 100% straight. I can tell in conversation that she’s dated a lot of men in her past life not that she’s had sex with all of them but she’s dating a lot of men most of them were drug dealers, on drugs at some point or proclaim to have money.

Now what I did love about her is the sex we had was off the chart; it was no holds bar. Whatever we wanted to do we did. I was truly addicted to making love to this woman; it was always exciting, full of energy and she threw it back just as much as I gave it to her. I can honestly say I never had a sexual complaint when it came to her, hell I’m thinking about sexing her right now as I’m writing this. She loved cleaning her house; always kept it clean; sometimes I wondered was it all just a showboat to impress people. Was she wifey material? She could be but there was a few things that she definitely would need to work on; like handling the same things that she dishes out. She was a work in progress; a good girl trying to be better.

Thirdly there’s Anastasia Faust; also a very smart and intelligent individual that would sometimes give you the impression that she knew way more than you did on any subject, any topic, any time of the day. She would definitely intimidate a weak man especially when it comes to making life decisions. Granted every man in her past life followed her lead as if she wore the pants. I guess that’s what happened when a strong-minded woman meets a man with no potential and the men in her past had no potential for what I’m hearing.

One of the things I didn’t like about her is not having enough drive in her life to do better or want more. Yes she was college educated but I still feel like she didn’t apply herself. She had a great mind for business, good with numbers, great with her hands; love to figure things out or read instructions and put things together. Family oriented on a scale of 1 to 10 I would say she was a four. The type of woman who at some point in her life wanted her freedom away from kids. Now when it comes to having a clean house, she damn sure was a pack rat and the whole time that we’ve been dating; I never seen her pick up a broom, a mop or even dust rag; kind of reminded me of a hoarder.

One thing I did love about her is the sex was great. Definitely no holds bar; there was no rules or no regulations; she could go all night; I made a tap out a few times. I never had to initiate sex with her as soon as she seen me it was hugs, kisses and then she would start unbutton my clothes. A true man’s dream; I’m closing my eyes now just picturing the softness of her lips on my entire body from head to toe. Well she wifey material definitely with alittle adjustment. She didn’t club, she didn’t smoke and she would only drink socially; she just loved having a good time and just wanted to be loved by a good man. A good girl trying to be better.

So I decided in the year 2019 I was going to make a final decision and choose only one of these ladies to be a part of my life, my circle, my growth and the last brick to my foundation. So I decided to choose from a very heart decision; Ms.!

Fingers crossed under oath by A. Dakala

I truly didn’t give a damn about telling the truth under oath; I raised my right hand with pride put left hand on the Bible and told God to forgive me silently as I close my eyes. I wanted to be picked as a juror as badly as I wanted to hit the lottery. I had some inside connections at the courthouse that made sure my application was put upfront. So when they sent me the letter in the mail; I said yes the day has come for my family to get Justice for my cousin Jelly. See my nickname was peanut butter and anytime you seen me, you seen jelly; peanut butter and jelly, we we’re different but one in the same. The man who murdered my cousin street name was Breadman; Street Hustler, con man, pathological liar but he also was jealous of everything Peanut Butter and Jelly did in the streets. So we set him up and planted evidence that would only make him the prime suspect.

I meant I was nervous the first day the all of the jurors had to check in at the courthouse. I prayed that if they ran a background check on me that I didn’t have any type of open warrants that resurfaced from the years of dirt that me and jelly did growing up. I didn’t care what anybody else in the room decided or did if they was chosen to be a juror, my mind was already made up that his ass would get convicted. I knew this wasn’t going to be a case of a hung jury. I was going to make sure that his ass did his time and if anybody felt like he wasn’t guilty they was going to have to deal with me. I had a back-up plan for a back-up plan that backed up my backup plan. I’ve already spotted out the weakest link in the room some dusty old ass lady hair whiter than snow looking at me from the corner of her eyes. Then there’s this white guy who wouldn’t make eye contact with me probably voted for Donald Trump acting like he was scared as hell, he had bit all of his finger nails down to the fingers.

As they passed around the questionnaire application for everyone to fill out. I raised my head and scanned around the room just to see who was really into filling out the paperwork who I need to keep my eye on. These questions would determine if you would be a good fit or not; I lied on every question that was asked even down to my ethnic group. Hell know I wasn’t just African-American today; no not today. Today I was African-American mixed with whatever the hell they wanted me to be mixed with; I was going to become a juror.

As we all got separated in groups I made sure I did not communicate with a soul in the room. I had my shirt button to the neck like a nerd, I wore reading glasses that I could barely see out of and make sure I didn’t make any eye contact with the deputy that kept peeping his peasy ass head in and out of the door checking on everyone. “Where’s Cabana Sienna?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows and look over the top of my glasses staring at the deputy and slightly raised my finger the signal that I was him. “Come with me” he said. The little dusty ass lady made some sound gesture as I walked by; I looked back at her and rolled my eyes. I wanted to pat my ass at her but she turned looked in the opposite direction.

“Cabana Sienna is everything on your application truthful to the best of your knowledge” the judge said. I had my fingers crossed as my left hand was stuffed in my front pocket; and my right hand raised. The judge gave me a stamped document and a name tag that had my name on it and I was officially Juror number 1 1 1 7.

I had made it to the final stage and considered an official juror in the murder case of De’Angelo “Jelly” Sienna.

On the first day of the murder case this will be the first time that I had seen Jelly’s murderer face to face in court. As I stared at him without blinking an eye; he notice me and in his own words silently uttered the words Butter you up next.

Lawyers for both sides presented their evidence; they either was going to spare his life or take his life and my job was to take his life by all means necessary.

Day two and day three passes with more evidence; more finger pointing and a lot more work that I needed to do. He had no alibi; there was no witnesses.

On the fourth day unexpectedly we were dismissed; there was no evidence presented this day but they did announce that they had a witness that came forward my heart dropped.

On the 5th day as all the jurors who was selected gathered together to talk about the evidence on the murder case; there were a few cops who I didn’t quite remember or recognize that was on the scene 5 years ago. Also the old Dusty lady, the silent racist white guy who couldn’t make eye contact with me and some Asian chick who didn’t have on a name tag, but had a note pad and pen in her hand were the chess pieces of the game. Maybe the Asian chick was there just taking notes or she could have been one of the jurors who knows, who cares I had a job to do; I needed to get somebody’s ass convicted of Jelly’s murder. I was nervous, I started to sweating wondering who was this witness. As I replayed that night back in my head there couldn’t have been a witness it was only me, Breadman and Jelly.

On the 6th day I was pissed because the whole room was undecided; pretty much a split down the middle of a conviction. I stood my ground and tried to convince others who didn’t want to convict, the reason why a conviction was necessary. After nearly six hours, It seemed to have worked as I had planned. Everybody talked as if a conviction was the best solution in the murder case. We were just waiting to give the judge our vote.

We could hear the Deputies walking down the hallway towards the room that we were waiting in. Then the door open an a Deputy stuck his head in the room and said “Butter, Judge Gotcha’ass needs to have a word with you immediately.”

Dirty bird by A.Dakala

Deuce “Bird” Fletcher was a name the streets ran from, was a name that nobody wanted to cross paths with. His background spoke for itself; the outside of him look like a normal African American male that had his shit together and in order. He was clean-cut, always smell good; wearing the newest colonge, clothes were casket Sharp but he was a psycho, a pathological liar who would kill a man at a drop of a dime. Known to tie bricks to a man’s ankles and throw him off the spaghetti junction bridge during rush hour traffic. This negro was a monster; a nightmare you would only see in your dreams but would have you waking you at 3am in the morning pissing in your clothes.

Though he represented Atlanta Georgia to the fullest; no one knew his background, where he was born and raised ,who his parents were or even if he had siblings. Not to mention if there were any offsprings he fathered throughout the years; society could only pray there wasn’t another one like him anywhere on earth.

Every relationship he has ever had with a female would only last 6 to 8 months before they would pack their bags and relocate to an unknown state; due to the type of individual he was capable of being.

Revenge to him was like an appetizer on a menu; you will get served what you deserve.

The other day a motorist cut him off by running a red light and he followed the vehicle until it came to a stopping point; their residents. He stood their at the driver door as the gentleman roll down his window in fear. Without saying a word he tasered the guy, “now you will think twice about cutting someone else off.” The man slumped over in the front seat as if he was having a seizure. Bird put the taser back in his coat pocket, got in his car and drive off like he was just visiting for Sunday dinner.

No one knew about the other personality of Bird that always seem to bring him to a much needed calm state of mind.

Beautiful Chaos by A. Dakala

It was a match made in heaven that turn into hell. It all started on a trip to the grocery store to buy eggs and cheese for breakfast. If it wasn’t for me Rushing that morning I would have gotten a basket instead of trying to hold all the groceries in my arm and that’s how the carton of eggs fell and splattered everywhere. There was a lady with her back turned getting milk out of the cooler, who ran to my rescue; I think she just felt sorry for me since I looked helpless. Our hands both reached for the empty carton at the same time; her hand overlapping my hand. At that moment I felt a warm sensation running up the veins of my arm that took me by surprise. Immediately my eyes got fixated on the fact that she did not have a wedding ring or any ring of that sort on her finger.

“Let me help you?” she said. This little old lady who was passing by grab the roll of paper towels off the shelf and handed them to me as we both clean the splattered eggs out of the middle of the aisle. The lady that helped me introduced herself as Samantha Rose. I was so embarrassed I just bust out laughing and reach my arm out to help her up as I repeated thank you so much. She just looked at me with such beautiful smile and hazel brown eyes “the pleasure was all mine” she said. I could only stare at her as she spoke.

One of the floor staff got a mop and started mopping the area.

I think I walked down every aisle in the store looking for Miss Rose but she was nowhere to be found. There was something about the energy I felt as both of our hands touched a feeling that I had never felt before.

As I was standing at the cash register paying for my items someone walked up behind me and tugged on the back of my shirt and as I looked around and it was Miss Rose she said that she had went to the restroom to wash her hands but came back out to give me her business card. Inside my heart was pounding, my brain was excited and my eyes were bulged out without any blinking. I offered to take her to lunch for helping me and she just smiled and said well you have my number now; whenever you decide or where you decide you want to take me to lunch please give me a call. Hell at that moment I felt like buying all the customers in the store cartons of eggs; this woman was beautiful.

As I was sitting at the stop light headed home I locked her number in my phone with every intentions of calling her once I got settled or finish breakfast that morning. I placed my cell phone on the coffee table and started cooking breakfast as my dog Mimi walk in and out of the kitchen. I was only in the kitchen for less than 45 minutes when I heard Mimi playing in the bathroom toilet again.

As I walked in the bathroom I could have just hit the wall Mimi had dropped my cell phone in the toilet and was trying to flush it. All I could think about was Miss Rose that I met today; I didn’t know her number by heart and I promised her that I would give her a call tonight. Now I’m fishing for my cell phone out of the toilet and it would not turn on.

Mimi knew I was very disappointed and exited quickly out of the bathroom and ran and hide under my bed.

the first thing that came to mind was to take my cell phone and submerged in a sandwich bag full of rice, I was told putting your wet cell phone in rice sometimes take an hour sometimes a day or two but eventually it would come on not sure of the logic behind it but I’ve heard that it works. Every hour I was checking my cell phone to see would it turn on and every hour I was disappointed I watch the clock go from 7pm, to 8pm to 9pm and I really didn’t want to break my promise of calling her.

I woke up depressed this morning because the whole night pass and I did not retrieve Miss Rose’s number to give her a call like I promise. All I kept saying to myself was how can something that seems so right go so wrong; from a simple cell phone being dropped in the toilet full of water.

as days passed I found myself going back to that same grocery store around the same time each weekend just hoping that I would run into Miss Rose and explain to her the reason why she hasn’t heard from you. Even the grocery store clerk that helped us clean up the mess was asked by me did he remember the lady who helped that day. He said “yes she comes in here all the time”; but he hadn’t seen her in the last couple of days.

After a week of searching for Miss Rose my heart gave up and my mind was mentally exhausted. Weeks with soon pass I Miss Rose became an afterthought.

The weather seem to be getting a lot better since the snow had passed, so I decided to take a evening jog near one of the busiest park around the corner from my house. There was always beautiful women jogging in their spandex pants or boyshorts walking their untrained dogs; maybe I will get lucky. I was almost out of breath so I had to stop for a moment to full my lungs. On the other side of the tree I can hear a couple arguing and it was getting louder and louder. People jogging by almost ran on top of each other looking back as the argument seem to have caught everybody by surprise. I didn’t want to be nosy but I did hear two older ladies saying that’s Pastor Jones and the first lady from 1st cavalry Church. I pretended to be stretching just so I could glance at who this couple was calling each other broke nigga, bitches and hoes; representing whatever church they falsely attended.

Out of nowhere you could hear this Pastor with an open hand smack his wife and the sound echo through the park. I was Frozen as I ran to her rescue.

As she raised her head and stared into my face, I could tell she was hurt not by just the pain that he inflicted with his hands but hurt by knowing that she knew me and I knew Miss Rose.

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