<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920</id><updated>2024-10-24T13:05:12.022-05:00</updated><category term="african american fiction"/><category term="yvonne kristine"/><category term="Short Story"/><category term="contemporary fiction"/><category term="author"/><category term="in the presence of karma"/><category term="black"/><category term="black author"/><category term="New Author"/><category term="fiction"/><category term="Hope"/><category term="Love"/><category term="Series"/><category term="Forgiveness"/><category term="Mercy"/><category term="Missing You"/><category term="infinity publishin"/><category term="novel"/><category term="poem"/><category term="temptation"/><category term="God"/><category term="Part 1"/><category term="Reflected Image"/><category term="betrayal"/><category term="natural fool"/><title type='text'>Entertainment Through Characters (etc)</title><subtitle type='html'>Short stories for the imagination and even shorter poems for the heart within. Enjoy!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-4068629971022233175</id><published>2014-12-03T21:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-03T21:41:01.344-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="temptation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Short Story - Perfectly Imperfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Baby, where you at?” Nick said as he walked in the front door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I’m in the kitchen, Babe,” Yawny shouted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Baby,” he continued as he made his way from the front door to the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey, Nick. What’s gotten into you?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I have got some great news!” he said walking into the kitchen as Yawny was cleaning dishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well spit it out,” Yawny said anxiously awaiting his news and drying off her hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Before he said anything he saw movement in the corner of his eye. When he turned in the direction of the movement, he noticed Yawny’s friend, Renee. “Uh, hey Renee.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Nick,” Renee said hardly moving her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What’s the big news, Babe,” Yawny continued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Uh, I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to tell you in front of&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;that,&lt;/i&gt;” he said referring to Renee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“See Nick, why did you even have to start? I wasn’t even going to say anything to your goofy, Krusty the Klown, pop tart, turtle head, but you just had to go there.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Whoa, did I say anything to you, Licorice Twist? When you going to grow your own hair and stop using the horse’s mane. You know they get cold in the winter too.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You went there.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Okay, Baby, obviously your kitchen is crowded with termites. Let me know when you get rid of the infestation,” he said as he headed out the backdoor to the backyard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I can’t stand you two. You guys argue more than we do,” Yawny said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well, I don’t like him, Yawny.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I know.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You been with him for four years,”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I know.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“And he still has yet to put a ring on your finger.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Why are you pressing the issue? It’s my life. It&#39;s me and Nick’s relationship. Not yours. Why you so worried?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because of all those hood rats that seem to tag along every time he has a job at the club.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Renee, we have went over this. Me and Nick’s relationship is what it is. We have 5 rules.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah and they’re dumb. Why live together, sleep together, be together, even utter the words&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;I love you&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;if you’re in an open relationship.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because for Nick and I, it works. It’s better than being lied to, having him sneak behind my back, and then he won’t come home because he’s laid up with someone else.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“But I couldn’t accept that from my man.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“And that’s why you’re single.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because I won’t settle for less. I couldn’t live your life Yawny. I really couldn’t. Sometimes, not to sound mean, but I feel sorry for you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Sorry for me? Why?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because you’ve settled and somehow this man has convinced you that this is as good as it gets. Some men still want to be in a monogamous relationship. Some men still want to settle down and raise a family, and some men still believe in that thing called marriage.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Renee, I’m not settling. This works for us. This is better than me worrying, crying myself to sleep, and wondering if I’m good enough. We don’t sleep anywhere besides our own bed, we always use protection, we don’t lie about it, we don’t bring anyone to&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;our&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;home, and we always,&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;always&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;come back to each other because this is where the heart is.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“No girl, you’re playing yaself. I’m convinced. The man gets his cake, ice cream, presents, toys, slumber party, alcohol, and whatever else he wants and you let him.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Uh, I get down too.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“When? Because the last time I checked you were keeping it all for Nick.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Just then the back door opened and Nick walked back into the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Aw man, you’re still here? Don’t you have some dog to infest with your fleas?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nick, shut up. If anybody has got fleas it’s your ugly butt and from what I hear they’re spreading all over the city.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Nick didn’t have a comeback this time. Yawny caught it too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;“What you mean? You burning?” she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“No, I’m not burning. Just your stupid friend telling her lies again.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Lies! Uh huh. Did you forget that I know Mica who works down at the free clinic and she told me that Ni—”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Renee,” Yawny said stopping her. “Let him tell me.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“She turned to Nick and waited.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Tell you what? If there was something to tell, I would tell you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You know, as open as we are in this relationship, I would hope that you would. You know I find out everything, Nick. Try to hide ya dirt,” she warned and walked out of the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well, I’m going to leave now. Have a good night, Nicholas,” Renee said as she arrogantly walked away happy with herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;As Nick stood in the kitchen alone, he thought some unkind words about Renee, before searching around the house for Yawny. He found her in her office working on her computer as usual. He knocked on the door frame to get her attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Can I come in?” he said once she looked in his direction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah,” she said still typing on her computer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“So, are you still curious about my big news?” Nick said avoiding the real situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Yawny knew what he was doing. He always did this hoping that she would avoid the real issue, and Yawny being her passive self, would allow him to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes, Nick. What is your big news?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I got a job in Chicago.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What?” Yawny shrieked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Just a gig. I work every last Saturday of the month at some upscale club.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“So what does that mean?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“It means more money, Baby, that’s what it means, and, and, and, we get to go to the Chi every last Saturday.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Yawny starred at him with all his little boy excitement. She wasn’t happy about this. Why would she be happy about this? All this meant was more women that he could sleep with, in a bigger city and he would get to be away from her, for real. Yawny shook her head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What’s wrong?” he said still waiting for her excitement to match his.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nothing Nick,” she lied. “I’m happy for you,” she said as she forced a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Are you really?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes really,” she said still trying to smile even though she really wanted to walk away from him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Good, because I wasn’t going to take the job if you weren’t going to be happy about it.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;He kissed her on the forehead and was headed out of her office to the neighbor’s house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nick,” she said just before he reached the doorway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes, Babe.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;She wanted to be honest and tell him that she wasn’t happy about it. That she thought him going to Chicago would be the end of them, but instead she said, “How soon will you be starting?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well I’m driving out tomorrow so I can meet with the promoter for the club and set up my station, maybe even talk him into more jobs around the city.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Tomorrow?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah. Bye Baby, I’m heading over to Chris’s place.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;She waved him off and placed her hand on her cheek. She ran her hand through her wavy hair before sighing deeply and slouching in her seat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;This may not be what she wanted to deal with&amp;nbsp;after all.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/4068629971022233175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/4068629971022233175?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4068629971022233175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4068629971022233175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2014/12/short-story-perfectly-imperfect.html' title='Short Story - Perfectly Imperfect'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-3074016555096678197</id><published>2014-11-14T17:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-02T22:54:53.439-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Forgiveness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mercy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missing You"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Short Story - I Miss You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;The sunlight shown through the curtain cascading its way up the bed and right into my face. I opened my eyes staring into his beautiful face. There was no denying it. I love this man. More than life itself. I continued to stare at him noticing that his leg was lying on top of mine. This man was so sensitive. This man. His freshly shave head, perfect nose, light brown body and gorgeous juicy lips. I couldn’t help it. I leaned in and kissed him. He woke with a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey baby,” I said in the sexiest voice possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I laid my head on his chest as he turned over on his back and wrapped his great big muscle&amp;nbsp;arms around me. I can’t believe how safe and comfortable I feel in his arms. He kissed the top of my head, wild hair from the night before, and squeezed me tighter. This man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle,” he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes baby,” I said back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle,” he said again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I rose from his chest and looked at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“What Baby?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I opened my eyes to my reality. My sister was standing in front of my bed fully dressed, looking down at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Girl you better get up if you want to be to work on time,” she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Darn,” I whispered with a sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I dragged my butt out of bed thinking about the dream wishing it was a reality. Ashlynn was in the bathroom doing her hair in her normal old lawyer bun. I stumbled behind her turning on the curling iron and taking the wrap off my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“What time are you off work?” Ashlynn asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“I dreamed about him again,” I said ignoring her question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;She dropped her arms and looked at me with those pity eyes through the mirror. “Girl, you need to let him go.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“I can’t help who I dream about.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“True, but what you dream about is what you’re feeling subconsciously. It’s been too long for you to still feel this way. Richard has been dead for 2 years. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I didn’t say anything. I knew she was right. Too much of my life has been spent dreaming and wishing. Wanting things to be different but how do you forget the one you lost? The one you promised to love forever. The one life that made you feel complete when you were with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I grabbed the comb and began to comb through the black puff on my head. My mind did nothing but race back to the time when he and I never strayed from each other. We’d been married for years but it only seemed like months. He called everyday at the same time to check on me and see how my day was going. It would make me smile to see his number. Everything he did&amp;nbsp;made me smile.&amp;nbsp;The last time I spoke to him he was just leaving work. I was getting ready because we had a dinner date, but it kept getting later and later. He’d never done anything like this before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I called his phone but there was no answer. I became extremely worried not knowing what to expect or what to do. Two hours later my phone rang. It was the call I’ll never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;There was a terrible accident on the interstate. A car had collided with a semi truck. Both of the drivers died. I had to go to the hospital and claim the body. I prayed and prayed the entire drive to the hospital, hoping that it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Not my Richard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;A nurse met me at the doors and walked me to a window. They already had the person covered up in a crisp white sheet. It still had the creases in it from being folded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I looked at the doctor and nodded as tears began to swell up in my eyes. I was crying before I was even sure it was him. I guess my soul knew. I was standing there waiting to see the face of a man that I wasn’t sure was my husband, but it’d felt as if a part of me was dead. As if I’d lost half myself; so I guess in a way my soul did know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;As the doctor pulled back the sheet it felt as if I’d stepped out of myself and I was watching me watch the doctor pull back the sheet. I watched myself as the face was revealed and my entire body went limp. I watched as I crumbled to the floor unable to feel my legs. I watched as cries beyond pain, beyond hurt, beyond understanding shot out of me as an emotion I wasn’t sure of how to express. Questions flooded my head. Reality seemed unmatched and unattainable. Assurance was gone and anything that made sense no longer existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;This was my love. This was my soul mate. He was a being who didn’t deserve this. He and I were us but with him gone I’m just I now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;The smell of burning grease on the curling iron brought me back to reality. I shook my head as my eyes focused on the one starring in the mirror. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;It’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to hurt. One day you’ll be happy, but deal with this feeling first. &lt;/i&gt;I repeat these words daily. They help me get through the days when all I can think about is how much I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/3074016555096678197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/3074016555096678197?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/3074016555096678197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/3074016555096678197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2014/11/i-miss-you-short-story.html' title='Short Story - I Miss You'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-2333595949676112521</id><published>2014-11-09T12:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-02T22:55:27.596-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="novel"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Short Story - Reflection</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror chanting the words, “Just a
 little bit longer.” The mirror had a big crack in it, which distorted 
the face that stared back at her. She was grateful for that. The years 
hadn’t been good to her 27-year-old structure. Her eyes were blood shot 
red from lack of sleep and had big black circles beneath them. Her 
almond brown skin lacked the healthy beautiful glow, and her hair was a 
tangled mess. She combed her fingers through it in an attempt to make it
 look a little better. She smiled at herself and instantly closed her 
mouth again. The tooth was still gone. The front bottom one. Her smile 
used to be so beautiful especially after her mom spent over 4100 dollars
 for braces. She looked at her eyes through the cracks of the mirror. 
Who was that person that stared back at her?&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s1600/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s320/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg&quot; height=&quot;219&quot; qba=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She turned from the mirror to her bedroom, slash living room, slash 
dining room, slash kitchen. The entire apartment complex had the same 
floor plan as her apartment because it used to be a motel complex. The 
brown shaggy carpet was filled with dirt, grime, cigarette ashes, and 
anything else that would cling to it. The walls were stained with dirt, 
old blood from her many nose bleeds, and cigarette smoke. Dirty clothes 
lay in the corner next to a lamp with a lampshade that had an inch of 
dust on it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
She
 scratched her head as she climbed into her hide-a-bed, covering only 
her legs with the blanket. She wore a man’s tank top and boxers. She had
 no plans to go anywhere so why dress up. She was 5’8” and weighed 117 
pounds. She knew she was a little bit too skinny, but she couldn’t keep 
weight on her if she tried.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 “Just a little bit longer,” she stated again to herself as she rocked a
 little in the bed. She grabbed the remote sitting next to her and 
turned on the television. A static noise filled the room before the 
picture adjusted itself for view of the local news. She flipped through 
the channels before she deemed a show viewable and laid her back against
 the rest. It didn’t matter what was on television because she wasn’t 
paying attention. She turned to the ticking clock on the wall. 9:03 AM. 
She turned off the television and got out of the bed to head to the 
bathroom where she leaned against the porcelain bathroom sink and stared
 at herself in the mirror. “Just a little bit longer,” she repeated.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 This time it wasn’t quiet. This time she heard the ticking of the 
clock. Each second seemed to be as loud as the last. “STOP IT,” she 
yelled, but still the clock continued to tick. She grabbed a hammer that
 lay on top of the window ledge and with fury raced towards the clock on
 the wall. In one motion she knocked it from the nail on the wall and 
smashed the batteries out of it. There. It was silent and she was 
satisfied. She dropped the hammer a couple of inches from the broken 
clock and got back in the hide-a-bed. Once again she grabbed the remote 
and turned on the television. After a minute of not really paying 
attention to what was on the screen, she turned to the place on the wall
 where the clock used to hang and at that moment she realized what she 
had done. A smack echoed the room as both of her hands hit her face in a
 simultaneous motion. She scrambled out of the bed not caring where the 
blankets went, grabbing the batteries and placing them back in the 
damaged clock. She flipped it over waiting for the second hand to regain
 motion but it didn’t. She gave the clock a little shake and waited for 
movement but there was none. “Come on,” she pleaded as she shook the 
clock a little harder this time. “Come on, baby, work please.” She was 
losing her patience. “Work!” she said as she hurled the clock across the
 room shattering it against the wall. “Great!” she yelled and groaned.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 She got up in a huff as she made her way to the bathroom mirror. 
Anxiety began to grow along with her frustration with waiting. She was 
sick of waiting. “How am I going to know how much longer now?” She 
huffed and fussed at the mirror. She banged her fist against it causing a
 piece to fall into the sink. She grabbed the piece and left the 
bathroom, tossing the broken mirror piece on the table. She got in the 
bed, leaving the television on as she got under the covers and closed 
her eyes. &lt;i&gt;Maybe when I wake up it’ll be better, &lt;/i&gt;she thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 She forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She wanted to go to sleep. 
She didn’t want to do anything else at this moment but sleep. Many 
thoughts ran through her head keeping her from finding the tranquility 
of sleep. &lt;i&gt;Just a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer, &lt;/i&gt;she constantly repeated in her head. Finally she was successful. She was asleep. She was calm. She was peaceful.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 She felt a nudge on her shoulder but she remained asleep and then she 
was violently shaken awake. “Get yo butt up, you know you ain’t sleep,” 
said a man. She groaned a little before her eyes adjusted to the figure 
in front of her. “What took you so long?” she said.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
“I had to wait just like you had to wait,” he said. “Here.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
 He handed her a rolled up dollar bill that was tightly wrapped by clear
 tape. Without a second thought she got out of bed and walked over to 
her patiently awaited reward. She bowed her head inhaling deeply as the 
white particles made their way up the makeshift shaft and into her nose.
 She tilted her head back feeling the burning sensation that she had 
been yearning for. When she looked back down she noticed that the white 
particles were sitting on the broken piece of glass. She looked at 
herself as much as possible and like the many times before, she wasn’t 
happy with what stared back. &lt;i&gt;Oh God, please help me&lt;/i&gt; she prayed.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/2333595949676112521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/2333595949676112521?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/2333595949676112521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/2333595949676112521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2014/11/reflection-short-story.html' title='Short Story - Reflection'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s72-c/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-6533815341865841615</id><published>2014-11-02T11:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2014-11-02T11:07:11.008-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="betrayal"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infinity publishin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="temptation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Desire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;Lisa peered out the living room window
across the street as a moving truck pulled into the driveway. “Honey, some
people are moving in across the street,” she yelled to the office where her
husband Darius was working on the project that he’d been working on for several
weeks now. In the urge of desperation and the need to get up and walk away, he
pulled out his chair from his desk and walked towards her. It was either going
to be him or this project, but it just couldn’t be him. He met Lisa in the
living room where he found her still looking out the window with a bag of
cookies in one hand and her other hand settled in the bag as if subtly saying, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;do not touch these cookies or else. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;Darius
smiled as he stood behind her to get a view of what she was viewing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Oh so we’re getting new neighbors,” he
confirmed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Yep. It’s about time. That house has
been vacant for three years.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“It hasn’t been that bad. When we needed
extra parking space for family get-togethers, people were able to park over
there without complaint. Where are they going to park, now?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Oh stop,” she said playfully hitting
his shoulder. She placed the cookie bag on the end table that sat next to the window
and backed into the arms of her husband. &lt;i&gt;Oh
how I love this man, &lt;/i&gt;she thought.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;He instinctively wrapped his arms around
his wife until they rested on her five month old baby bump. “I can’t wait until
this little guy is here.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah, he is going to be so spoiled” she
said as she turned around and wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah. I just can’t wait till he can play
catch.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Lisa smiled before giving him a kiss
then walking towards the kitchen with her bag of cookies.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Darius remained standing at the window, placing
his hands in his pocket as the movers unloaded the truck with some odd things.
Darius wrinkled up his nose and then walked away from the window feeling odd
that he was still starring without Lisa watching with him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Do you think we should do something for
them?” Darius said meeting Lisa in the kitchen.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“For who?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“The neighbors.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Something like what?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“I don’t know,” he said shrugging his
shoulders. “I just remember when we moved to this neighborhood, we had people
coming around for days giving us &lt;i&gt;welcome
to your new home &lt;/i&gt;gifts.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Well, yea. I guess we can do
something,” she said giving in not really wanting to do too much. “We could
re-wrap one of those gifts that were giving to us.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“We could, or we can be genuinely nice
and give them something they would like or something they will need.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;Lisa smiled. That was why she loved him.
He was always thinking of others whether he knew them or not. “Well I guess.
Whatever you want to do, honey, is fine with me.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Just you?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Fine with me and the little boy inside
me that is going to come out looking just as handsome as his father.” She
leaned in and gave him a kiss and another.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Love you.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Love you more.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Okay, honey. I have to get back to
work. This dang project is going to kill me.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;&quot;&gt;“You’ll be fine and if you need a break
you know where to find me,” she winked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/6533815341865841615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/6533815341865841615?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/6533815341865841615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/6533815341865841615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2014/11/desire.html' title='Desire'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-1803634583875846619</id><published>2013-02-23T22:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-23T23:14:03.215-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="natural fool"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Natural Fool</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“This is why you don’t marry
someone just because they have a few strokes that make your toes curl,” Janel
said as she sat across from Melody scooping vanilla ice cream into her mouth.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“For your information, I didn’t
know how good his sex was until after we were married, but I know what you
mean,” Melody replied. She starred at her ice cream, not eating it, just
placing it on her spoon and then tilting her spoon to watch the dessert slide
down the metal and clump back into the dish. “And honestly J, I’m not in the
mood for &lt;i&gt;I told you so’s&lt;/i&gt;. The annulment just became final today.&lt;i&gt; This&lt;/i&gt; is
supposed to be my&amp;nbsp;annulment party!”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“This is a sad party. We’re at a
college diner, eating ice cream.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Melody shook her head. “How do you
celebrate a desolvement of a marriage? Especially mine? I’m only doing it because a lady at work
said I should. She said it’ll make me feel better.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Do you feel better?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Girl, no! I don’t. I’m pissed. I
don’t understand how someone can be so conniving; so vindictive. You don’t play
with someone’s heart like that!”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Janel shook her head but she
remained quiet. She knew Melody needed this venting session, even though she’d
already heard these words before.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“You know the fool tried to get
half of everything I own?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“After&amp;nbsp;four&amp;nbsp;in a half months&amp;nbsp;of
marriage?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yes, and was dead pressed toward
it.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“I thought you had him sign a
pre-nuptial thingy.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“No,” Melody sighed. “He talked me
out of it saying that I should trust him and that he loved me not my money.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“He didn’t get anything did he?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Not much, thank God. The judge
dismissed that request but then he tried to say that I should pay spousal
support.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What!” Janel’s voice raised an
entire octave.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yeah, I know. I picked a good one.
Luckily, the judge dismissed that too. I’m glad she was a woman because a man
probably would’ve granted these ridiculous requests.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Hmph,” Janel said unsure if she
should make a comment.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“He did get me though.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What do you mean?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“I have to pay for the annulment, his court and lawyer fees, and his moving expenses.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What! You’re kidding.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Melody shook her head. Emotionless.
Eyes glued to her now soupy ice cream.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“The judge really said that?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Melody nodded.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“But he&#39;s the one who requested the annulment, behind your back.” Janel
objected&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“I was nothing to him. I should’ve
known too,” she chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. “First of all, it was
Friday when I met him so he musta just got paid or something because he was
flashy. Had on more jewelry than me. I was headed to the bank downtown and it’s
crazy because I know when I pulled up to the parking meter the car behind me
was already there. Do you know what this man did?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“He pretended as if he was paying
the meter for that car. It was a black Mercedes. I’ll never forget it because I
instantly thought &lt;em&gt;that is a nice car&lt;/em&gt;.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“How do you know he pretended?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Because when we were together I
never once seen that car and after we were married he told me that he sold it, and
then asked to borrow mine all the time. If that really was your car and the &lt;i&gt;only &lt;/i&gt;car you had, why in the world would
you sell it? Seriously though? And I &lt;em&gt;almost&lt;/em&gt; bought him a car.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“Dang girl.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“And, if you have such a great job
how come you never go to it or you have the day off but I never really see any
money from this wonderful job and you can’t give me a company name because of
some lame excuse I know you made up.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“So Girl, why did you marry him?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Melody shrugged. “I was in love. I
seriously looked past the lies and dumbness because he had the potential to be
more.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“You can’t fall in love with
potential.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“I know. I know,” Melody buried her
face in her hands and let out an audible sigh. “I am sucha fool,” she said removing
her hands from her face and going back to playing in her ice cream. The two sat
quiet for a while. Janel starred at her empty bowl unsure of anything to say.
She wanted to comfort Melody but she didn’t know how and she didn&#39;t want to upset her more.&lt;br /&gt;
“I was nothing but a meal ticket to
him,” Melody finally said dropping her spoon and sitting back in her seat crossing her arms over her chest.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Her frustration had mounted to its
peak. How could she let this happen? To her? She knew it happened to other
women but never would it happen to her, at least it wasn’t supposed to. She was
smarter than this. She’d actually been taken advantage of at this age. An age
when peer pressure, dorm room dares, and midnight creeps were behind her. She
was an adult.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Janel studied Melody. Lines were
forged across her forehead and her eyebrows were down. Her eyes were blank and
her complete body language was tired. Beaten down. She’d given up.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What was he to you?” Janel said
breaking the silence.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“What do you mean?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
“If you were just his meal ticket
then what was he to you?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Melody was taken aback. She’d never
really thought about it. &lt;i&gt;What was he to
me?&lt;/i&gt; The question swirled around in her head as if&amp;nbsp;it were being mixed in a
blender. The more she thought about it she slowly began to smile.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
When she was lonely he would
provide company. When she wanted someone to talk to he would be there to
listen. When she needed a shoulder he would offer. When she was exhausted he’d
let her rest. When she needed a laugh he would tell a joke. When she needed
something very minor he was always there. Her answer was simple and the very
reason why she was so blind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
She perked up and looked Janel in
her eyes. “He was my court jester,” Melody said erupting into laughter.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: .5in;&quot;&gt;
Janel laughed too. “Girl you are
crazy!” she said through chuckles. “Straight crazy.”&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/1803634583875846619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/1803634583875846619?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1803634583875846619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1803634583875846619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2013/02/natural-fool.html' title='Natural Fool'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-7076552725254202325</id><published>2012-12-03T14:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-12-04T22:05:13.430-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missing You"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Missing You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;The sunlight shown through the curtain cascading its way up the bed and right into my face. I opened my eyes staring into his beautiful face. There was no denying it. I love this man. More than life itself. I continued to stare at him noticing that his leg was lying on top of mine. This man was so sensitive. This man. His freshly shave head, perfect nose, light brown body and gorgeous juicy lips. I couldn’t help it. I leaned in and kissed him. He woke with a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey baby,” I said in the sexiest voice possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I laid my head on his chest as he turned over on his back and wrapped his great big muscle&amp;nbsp;arms around me. I can’t believe how safe and comfortable I feel in his arms. He kissed the top of my head, wild hair from the night before, and squeezed me tighter. This man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle,” he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes baby,” I said back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle,” he said again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I rose from his chest and looked at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“What Baby?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Danielle.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I opened my eyes to my reality. My sister was standing in front of my bed fully dressed, looking down at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Girl you better get up if you want to be to work on time,” she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“Darn,” I whispered with a sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I dragged my butt out of bed thinking about the dream wishing it was a reality. Ashlynn was in the bathroom doing her hair in her normal old lawyer bun. I stumbled behind her turning on the curling iron and taking the wrap off my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“What time are you off work?” Ashlynn asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“I dreamed about him again,” I said ignoring her question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;She dropped her arms and looked at me with those pity eyes through the mirror. “Girl, you need to let him go.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“I can’t help who I dream about.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;“True, but what you dream about is what you’re feeling subconsciously. It’s been too long for you to still feel this way. Richard has been dead for 2 years. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I didn’t say anything. I knew she was right. Too much of my life has been spent dreaming and wishing. Wanting things to be different but how do you forget the one you lost? The one you promised to love forever. The one life that made you feel complete when you were with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I grabbed the comb and began to comb through the black puff on my head. My mind did nothing but race back to the time when he and I never strayed from each other. We’d been married for years but it only seemed like months. He called everyday at the same time to check on me and see how my day was going. It would make me smile to see his number. Everything he did&amp;nbsp;made me smile.&amp;nbsp;The last time I spoke to him he was just leaving work. I was getting ready because we had a dinner date, but it kept getting later and later. He’d never done anything like this before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I called his phone but there was no answer. I became extremely worried not knowing what to expect or what to do. Two hours later my phone rang. It was the call I’ll never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;There was a terrible accident on the interstate. A car had collided with a semi truck. Both of the drivers died. I had to go to the hospital and claim the body. I prayed and prayed the entire drive to the hospital, hoping that it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Not my Richard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;A nurse met me at the doors and walked me to a window. They already had the person covered up in a crisp white sheet. It still had the creases in it from being folded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;I looked at the doctor and nodded as tears began to swell up in my eyes. I was crying before I was even sure it was him. I guess my soul knew. I was standing there waiting to see the face of a man that I wasn’t sure was my husband, but it’d felt as if a part of me was dead. As if I’d lost half myself; so I guess in a way my soul did know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;As the doctor pulled back the sheet it felt as if I’d stepped out of myself and I was watching me watch the doctor pull back the sheet. I watched myself as the face was revealed and my entire body went limp. I watched as I crumbled to the floor unable to feel my legs. I watched as cries beyond pain, beyond hurt, beyond understanding shot out of me as an emotion I wasn’t sure of how to express. Questions flooded my head. Reality seemed unmatched and unattainable. Assurance was gone and anything that made sense no longer existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;This was my love. This was my soul mate. He was a being who didn’t deserve this. He and I were us but with him gone I’m just I now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;&quot;&gt;The smell of burning grease on the curling iron brought me back to reality. I shook my head as my eyes focused on the one starring in the mirror. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;It’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to hurt. One day you’ll be happy, but deal with this feeling first. &lt;/i&gt;I repeat these words daily. They help me get through the days when all I can think about is how much I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/7076552725254202325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/7076552725254202325?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7076552725254202325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7076552725254202325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/06/missing-you.html' title='Missing You'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-4572315353152415512</id><published>2012-06-30T14:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-30T14:28:28.771-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Forgiveness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="God"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mercy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poem"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>2 Short Poems: Displaying My Love for God</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;To Be Loved By You:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;I don&#39;t know where I would be without you. I tell myself I don&#39;t deserve you. Your love&amp;nbsp;consumes&amp;nbsp;me and makes me want to please you and no matter how bad I&#39;ve treated you--&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
-When I cursed you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
-When I cheated spending time with you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
-When I even tried to go on without you&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You still remain unchanged and love me for who I am.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Nothing like the love of God.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stop Playing Yourself:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;You wish upon a star for something you want most&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You wish upon an eyelash for something you can boast&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;A flick of a coin in a pond for something you hold dear&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;And don&#39;t step on the crack or a visit to the&amp;nbsp;chiropractor&amp;nbsp;for your mother will be near&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Good luck should be yours if you gather little trinkets&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;And don&#39;t split that pole or let a black cat walk in front of you, you may think it&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Forward that text message and that email&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Its a crazy thought but yet you do it without fail&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You put faith in it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You drag in hope.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;You put your heart in it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;A positive outcome will be yours you know...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Well...STOP!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The best positive outcome is God!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The one who can give it all is God!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The one who can provide simply because He wants to?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The one who can provide simply because He loves you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;GOD!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;No false hope.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;No broken promises.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Just His word.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Which can be relied on!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Love.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Mercy.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Forgiveness.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Grace.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/4572315353152415512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/4572315353152415512?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4572315353152415512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4572315353152415512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/06/2-short-poems-displaying-my-love-for.html' title='2 Short Poems: Displaying My Love for God'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-1829688074934873791</id><published>2012-06-15T22:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-15T22:58:51.899-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poem"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Joy, Love, and Passion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;background: white; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span lang=&quot;EN&quot; style=&quot;mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;Time is moving faster than I care to admit but I&#39;m joyful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at how far I&#39;ve come in so little time but I compare my strides to my peers and it seems my strides are not long enough yet, still I am joyful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought my life could be filled with such love and passion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The greatness of my worth is not yet recognized, but I&#39;m joyful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don&#39;t long for things I cannot have or purchase things I know in the long run I won&#39;t be able to afford, but I am joyful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is filled with such love and passion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My joy and my blessings overcome my shortcomings and disarm my lacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel what I know I want and dream a great dream. I see these dreams as windows to my future. A future so great that it gives me joy. A joy so great that a trip or a short fall means nothing because I know my misstep or accidental folly is temporary. My joy knows no such failure. My God knows no such defeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve seen the life I&#39;m meant to lead and joyfully I will go to it. My great and wondrous future. A life filled with joy, love, and passion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/1829688074934873791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/1829688074934873791?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1829688074934873791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1829688074934873791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/06/joy-love-and-passion.html' title='Joy, Love, and Passion'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-1690484935401175904</id><published>2012-06-02T20:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-10T14:58:11.407-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Perfectly Imperfect - Short Story(Non Series)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Baby, where you at?” Nick said as he walked in the front door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I’m in the kitchen, Babe,” Yawny shouted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Baby,” he continued as he made his way from the front door to the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey, Nick. What’s gotten into you?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I have got some great news!” he said walking into the kitchen as Yawny was cleaning dishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well spit it out,” Yawny said anxiously awaiting his news and drying off her hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Before he said anything he saw movement in the corner of his eye. When he turned in the direction of the movement, he noticed Yawny’s friend, Renee. “Uh, hey Renee.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Nick,” Renee said hardly moving her lips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What’s the big news, Babe,” Yawny continued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Uh, I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to tell you in front of &lt;i&gt;that,&lt;/i&gt;” he said referring to Renee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“See Nick, why did you even have to start? I wasn’t even going to say anything to your goofy, Krusty the Klown, pop tart, turtle head, but you just had to go there.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Whoa, did I say anything to you, Licorice Twist? When you going to grow your own hair and stop using the horse’s mane. You know they get cold in the winter too.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You went there.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Okay, Baby, obviously your kitchen is crowded with termites. Let me know when you get rid of the infestation,” he said as he headed out the backdoor to the backyard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I can’t stand you two. You guys argue more than we do,” Yawny said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well, I don’t like him, Yawny.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I know.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You been with him for four years,”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I know.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“And he still has yet to put a ring on your finger.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Why are you pressing the issue? It’s my life. It&#39;s me and Nick’s relationship. Not yours. Why you so worried?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because of all those hood rats that seem to tag along every time he has a job at the club.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Hey Renee, we have went over this. Me and Nick’s relationship is what it is. We have 5 rules.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah and they’re dumb. Why live together, sleep together, be together, even utter the words &lt;i&gt;I love you &lt;/i&gt;if you’re in an open relationship.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because for Nick and I, it works. It’s better than being lied to, having him sneak behind my back, and then he won’t come home because he’s laid up with someone else.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“But I couldn’t accept that from my man.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“And that’s why you’re single.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because I won’t settle for less. I couldn’t live your life Yawny. I really couldn’t. Sometimes, not to sound mean, but I feel sorry for you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Sorry for me? Why?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Because you’ve settled and somehow this man has convinced you that this is as good as it gets. Some men still want to be in a monogamous relationship. Some men still want to settle down and raise a family, and some men still believe in that thing called marriage.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Renee, I’m not settling. This works for us. This is better than me worrying, crying myself to sleep, and wondering if I’m good enough. We don’t sleep anywhere besides our own bed, we always use protection, we don’t lie about it, we don’t bring anyone to &lt;i&gt;our &lt;/i&gt;home, and we always, &lt;i&gt;always&lt;/i&gt; come back to each other because this is where the heart is.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“No girl, you’re playing yaself. I’m convinced. The man gets his cake, ice cream, presents, toys, slumber party, alcohol, and whatever else he wants and you let him.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Uh, I get down too.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“When? Because the last time I checked you were keeping it all for Nick.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Just then the back door opened and Nick walked back into the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Aw man, you’re still here? Don’t you have some dog to infest with your fleas?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nick, shut up. If anybody has got fleas it’s your ugly butt and from what I hear they’re spreading all over the city.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Nick didn’t have a comeback this time. Yawny caught it too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;“What you mean? You burning?” she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“No, I’m not burning. Just your stupid friend telling her lies again.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Lies! Uh huh. Did you forget that I know Mica who works down at the free clinic and she told me that Ni—” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Renee,” Yawny said stopping her. “Let him tell me.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“She turned to Nick and waited.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Tell you what? If there was something to tell, I would tell you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“You know, as open as we are in this relationship, I would hope that you would. You know I find out everything, Nick. Try to hide ya dirt,” she warned and walked out of the kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well, I’m going to leave now. Have a good night, Nicholas,” Renee said as she arrogantly walked away happy with herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;As Nick stood in the kitchen alone, he thought some unkind words about Renee, before searching around the house for Yawny. He found her in her office working on her computer as usual. He knocked on the door frame to get her attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Can I come in?” he said once she looked in his direction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah,” she said still typing on her computer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“So, are you still curious about my big news?” Nick said avoiding the real situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Yawny knew what he was doing. He always did this hoping that she would avoid the real issue, and Yawny being her passive self, would allow him to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes, Nick. What is your big news?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“I got a job in Chicago.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What?” Yawny shrieked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Just a gig. I work every last Saturday of the month at some upscale club.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“So what does that mean?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“It means more money, Baby, that’s what it means, and, and, and, we get to go to the Chi every last Saturday.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;Yawny starred at him with all his little boy excitement. She wasn’t happy about this. Why would she be happy about this? All this meant was more women that he could sleep with, in a bigger city and he would get to be away from her, for real. Yawny shook her head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“What’s wrong?” he said still waiting for her excitement to match his.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nothing Nick,” she lied. “I’m happy for you,” she said as she forced a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Are you really?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes really,” she said still trying to smile even though she really wanted to walk away from him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Good, because I wasn’t going to take the job if you weren’t going to be happy about it.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;He kissed her on the forehead and was headed out of her office to the neighbor’s house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Nick,” she said just before he reached the doorway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yes, Babe.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;She wanted to be honest and tell him that she wasn’t happy about it. That she thought him going to Chicago would be the end of them, but instead she said, “How soon will you be starting?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Well I’m driving out tomorrow so I can meet with the promoter for the club and set up my station, maybe even talk him into more jobs around the city.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Tomorrow?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;“Yeah. Bye Baby, I’m heading over to Chris’s place.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: 12pt;&quot;&gt;She waved him off and placed her hand on her cheek. She ran her hand through her wavy hair before sighing deeply and slouching in her seat.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/1690484935401175904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/1690484935401175904?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1690484935401175904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/1690484935401175904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/06/perfectly-imperfect-short-storynon.html' title='Perfectly Imperfect - Short Story(Non Series)'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-7237318802656454679</id><published>2012-05-26T21:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-10T14:59:24.508-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Series"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Hope - Short Story - Part 3 (Final)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Summer seemed to be worse for me when it came to being around Janet and my siblings. I had to do everything for everybody and I was still confused about what “SSS-BIhE calculator” was. Why did Paris do that? Several times I wanted to call my dad and tell him, I want to live with you, but I didn’t have the number. I studied that piece of paper every night. I dreamt about it those letters. I wrote them everywhere and recited them like I was getting ready to star in a play and that was my only line. “SSS-BIhE calculator.” After a month in a half I didn’t even look at the paper anymore. The letters were engraved in my head. Even though I didn’t look at the paper I still carried it with me everywhere. It had gotten just a little wrinkled but it was the closest thing I had to my dad and Paris. The only thing I had.&lt;/div&gt;
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When Janet would get frustrated with me for no reason at all I would reach my hands in my pocket and squeeze the piece of paper. After a whooping or a slap or something I did even though I didn’t know I did it, I’d hold on to the piece of paper.&lt;/div&gt;
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One day, Leah was being nice and let me play in her room with her. It was raining outside so she couldn’t play with Tessa. I couldn’t touch anything though. Only look. This particular day was special because she held out a doll that she considered her most favorite doll and she let me hold her. The doll was very pretty and even looked a little like Leah with its curly black hair. I hardly moved while I held the doll. I didn’t want something to happen and then I’d be blamed and wouldn’t be able to play with Leah ever again.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hey Chloe, since you don’t have any dolls, I’ll let you have that one if you want it,” Leah said.&lt;/div&gt;
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I thought I was dreaming. “I can have it for real?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Yea. I have plenty of dolls. Next time we play together you can bring your own doll.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Wow. Thank you!”&lt;/div&gt;
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I was admiring my new toy when Alex and Trenton busted into Leah’s room very hyper.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Leah, Dad’s here look what he got us?”&lt;/div&gt;
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Alex handed Leah the toy and then Trenton turned to me, “Our dad got one for you too,” he said as he handed me one.&lt;/div&gt;
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It was a little knick knack doll that stood on a round block. When you pushed the button a string would loosen and the doll would fall limp and when you pushed the button again it would pull the string tight and the doll would straighten back up. It was fun to play with.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Come on, Leah. Dad is ready to go,” Trenton said.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Bye Chloe,” they all said in unison. &lt;/div&gt;
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“Bye,” I said back as they left me in the middle of Leah’s room holding my new doll and the limp doll.&lt;/div&gt;
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Leah returned seconds later telling me to get out of her room. As I stood up to leave my piece of paper fell out of my pocket.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hey, what is this?” Leah said as she picked up the piece of paper.&lt;/div&gt;
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I immediately reached in my pocket hoping that that piece of paper wasn’t my piece of paper but when my pocket was empty I knew I was gonna be in for it.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hey, Chloe what does this mean?”&lt;/div&gt;
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She was nice. “Uh, I don’t know.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Did your dad give it to you?” she asked.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Yea,” I lied “But I don’t know what it means.”&lt;/div&gt;
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She studied the paper really hard examining it for a really long time and then she said, “I got it.”&lt;/div&gt;
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She went over to a box that kept her school things inside. She reached in and pulled out a calculator. Using the calculator she typed in some numbers and then turned it upside down. “Oh,” she said disappointed.&lt;/div&gt;
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“What?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“I thought it would spell out a word but it’s just a bunch of numbers.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Let me see,” I said.&lt;/div&gt;
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She showed me the calculator and the numbers read 555-8143. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Of course&lt;/i&gt; I thought remembering the &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;hello&lt;/i&gt; that&amp;nbsp;Paris spelled out&amp;nbsp;on my calculator.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Do you know what it means?” Leah asked.&lt;/div&gt;
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I shook my head.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Oh well. Here you go,” she said handing me back my piece of paper.&lt;/div&gt;
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I took it from her and we both left out of her room together. I placed the piece of paper back in my pocket and carried my new toys to my couch. I finally had a doll to sleep with at night. Just as I was placing the doll on the couch a loud smack sounded and my back began to burn.&lt;/div&gt;
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“What are you doing with Leah’s doll?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“She gave it to me,” I said as I tried to hold back tears.&lt;/div&gt;
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“You’re lying.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“No, she really did give it to me.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Go put it back in her room.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“But—”&lt;/div&gt;
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SMACK. I didn’t even get the words out before her back hand stung across my face. “What did I say? And don’t you dare talk back to me.”&lt;/div&gt;
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I broke and Janet was pleased. She lived to see me cry. She lived to see me suffer. She lived to make sure I didn’t.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmC2emzM8mesv3V7g_tD1eQbV8W74oIVtaPcV555iSP9u8zaOKohesdMy-zbz4nJOEC4DfGMHEMTLMcdaHSHGUJ_B-zOhmrEF4wYN9Nyk47u4FzrTwLfmMP4FkNnRF_5SBU7tRWod2umg/s1600/Hope+3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; qba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmC2emzM8mesv3V7g_tD1eQbV8W74oIVtaPcV555iSP9u8zaOKohesdMy-zbz4nJOEC4DfGMHEMTLMcdaHSHGUJ_B-zOhmrEF4wYN9Nyk47u4FzrTwLfmMP4FkNnRF_5SBU7tRWod2umg/s320/Hope+3.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I slowly crept back into Leah’s room and placed the doll back on Leah’s bed. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;When Leah gets back she will give me back the doll and Janet will see that she was wrong, &lt;/i&gt;I thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I was wrong. Leah came home, seen the doll on her bed, and didn’t say a work. It was then that I knew I had to get out of here. Everyone in this house was against me. They were bred to hate me and no matter what I did they would always hate me. I had to get out of here. Sometime in the near future I would be using my dad’s number and as I laid on the couch in the dark I smiled. A real genuine smile because I knew, finally I would be happy.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/7237318802656454679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/7237318802656454679?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7237318802656454679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7237318802656454679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/05/hope-short-story-part-3-final.html' title='Hope - Short Story - Part 3 (Final)'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmC2emzM8mesv3V7g_tD1eQbV8W74oIVtaPcV555iSP9u8zaOKohesdMy-zbz4nJOEC4DfGMHEMTLMcdaHSHGUJ_B-zOhmrEF4wYN9Nyk47u4FzrTwLfmMP4FkNnRF_5SBU7tRWod2umg/s72-c/Hope+3.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-7115373844133791511</id><published>2012-05-19T23:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-10T15:00:21.017-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Series"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Hope - Short Story - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Two months past and I hadn’t heard from or seen my dad. Every morning I woke up, I told myself that today was the day that he’d show up and ask me again. This time I’d say yes. I wouldn’t even think about it. Things had to be better living with him then staying here. After a week everything went back to normal. The upper hand I seemed to gain completely dissipated and what little friendship I had in my siblings seemed non-existent. Occasionally, Leah would play dolls with me, but only until Janet would call her away. She mostly played with the neighbor girl, Tessa, and they would tease me. No matter how much they tried to make me cry, I wouldn’t. Not in front of them anyway.&lt;/div&gt;
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On the last day of school I had made cards for all my teachers. I had one for my art teacher, my gym teacher, the principal, my music teacher, and the nurse who had cleaned up a scrape I got when I fell on the black top. When the last bell rang I went to all the classes to give them their cards. Ms Renee was so grateful that she gave me a purple calculator. She knew purple was my favorite color.&lt;/div&gt;
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When I was finished, I walked out the doors to join my siblings who were waiting for Janet to pick us up. Just as I was walking out I saw her pull off. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. She wouldn’t leave me, but then I thought &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;well its Janet. Of course she’ll leave you. &lt;/i&gt;I watched as her tan brown mini-van disappeared at the end of the road.&lt;/div&gt;
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At first I panicked. I didn’t know how I was going to get home, but then I immediately calmed down. I knew the way home and even if I had to walk all the way there I was just going to have to do it. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;I wish I knew my dad’s number. I could call him and have him come rescue me. &lt;/i&gt;“Uh rescue you, Chloe. What are you some damsel in distress?” I said to myself. “Chill out on the fairy tales, dummy.” &lt;/div&gt;
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I sighed seeing the long stretch of road in front of me. “Step one. Take the first step,” I said again to myself. I was going to turn this into a game. A fantastic journey. I was going to enjoy this time by myself and the upside was if I wasn’t home, I wouldn’t have to do any chores. No sooner had I thought that that my stomach growled. Great. I was hungry, with no food, no money, and at least an hour or two away from home.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hey Chloe,” a girl yelled to me. It was Deanna. She was kind of my friend but she only played with me when the other girls were mean to her.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hi Deanna,” I said.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Where is your sister?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“She left already,” I said nonchalant.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Without you? Isn’t your mom going to be mad?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Well I had something I had to do after school so I told her it was okay,” I lied.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Oh. Well when you get home can you give her these cookies?” she said as she held out a baggie full of chocolate chip cookies. “I was supposed to give them to her at lunch but I forgot.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Yes, I can.” My mouth began to salivate as I thought about eating the entire bag.&lt;/div&gt;
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“You can have one if she says its okay,” she said as she skipped away in the opposite direction. Deanna always walked home. Her house was at the end of the block across the street from the school and she always had a lunch box full of homemade goodies. You wanted to be her friend just to see what type of lunch you could swap with her. &lt;/div&gt;
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I held the twisted part of the bag tight in my fist as I held the straps of my backpack and began my long journey home. The smell of the cookies seeped through the bag and into my nose. I rationalized again and again that it was wrong to eat Leah’s cookies and more than likely Deanna would ask her how she liked them and Leah would know that I didn’t give them to her and that would be cause for a whooping. I stopped once I reached the corner and took off my backpack to stuff the cookies deep inside where they would be out of sight. &lt;/div&gt;
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Just as I was about to cross the street a black Cadillac pulled up in front of me and stopped. The passenger window rolled down and a very pretty woman starred back at me. She had jet black curly hair and milk chocolate colored skin. Her skin was flawless and she was beautiful. She was the beauty I wanted to be when I grew up.&lt;/div&gt;
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For what seemed like a long time she just looked at me with very sad eyes. I just stood there. I didn’t know what she wanted.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Hi Chloe,” she finally said.&lt;/div&gt;
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Startled, I said the only thing I could think of. “How do you know my name?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Your dad told me.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“My dad?” I smiled a little.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Yes. Do you want to get in?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“I’m not supposed to take rides from strangers.”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Okay. Well how bout I get out and walk with you, is that alright?”&lt;/div&gt;
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I shrugged. I really didn’t know. I wasn’t taught this part.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Okay, well let me park and I’ll come back.”&lt;/div&gt;
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I waited and watched as she drove a short distance to the next house and parked. When she got out she was tall. Much taller than Janet and she was prettier too. She wore dark colored jeans and a white ruffled blouse. I expected someone as fancy looking as her to have high heels but she was wearing sneakers. I watched as her curls bounced as she walked and the smile that came across her face as she came closer to me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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“Okay Chloe,” she said once she was standing next to me, “where are we headed?”&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Home,” I said.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh. Okay. Well you lead the way and I’ll follow.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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We walked for a block without saying anything. I don’t know if she was nervous or if she really was going to follow me all the way home. I don’t think she knew how long the walk was going to be.&lt;/div&gt;
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“What’s that you got in your hand?” she said breaking the silence.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
Without saying a word I showed her the calculator.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“I like the color. Is purple your favorite color?” she asked.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I nodded.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“I like purple too. Especially purple flowers.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I smiled. She was being a grownup. A weird one at that.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Do you know what the color purple means?” she asked.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I shook my head.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“It means royalty and peace of mind.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I stopped. “What does peace of mind mean?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“It means you’re happy. You don’t have anything in the world to worry about.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh! Well, what color means the opposite of what purple means?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
She kneeled down next to me. “I don’t know, maybe gray.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Well that’s me then. My favorite color should be gray.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh honey,” she said reaching out her hands to give me a hug. I backed away.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
For a while we just stood there. I could tell she was looking at me even though my eyes were focused on the sidewalk.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Can I show you a trick with your calculator?” she finally said.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I nodded and handed the calculator to her.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
She typed some numbers into the machine and then handed it back to me. The numbers read 0.7734&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Lucida Handwriting&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Segoe UI&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;I was confused. “What does this mean?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;“Turn it upside down,” she said with a wink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;I did and the numbers perfectly spelled out the word &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;hello&lt;/i&gt;. I was amazed. “Wow. Can you do any others?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;She laughed. “No, that’s the only one I know. Maybe you can practice and then teach me some.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-fareast-font-family: FangSong;&quot;&gt;“Okay,” I said feeling good that she actually wanted me, a kid, to teach her, a grownup, something. I smiled and then a thought came into my head. Who was this woman?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“How do you know my dad?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Paris. I thought he said he mentioned me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“You’re Paris!”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“It’s me, in the flesh.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh. You’re cool.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Thanks,” she smiled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
Again it was silent. I didn’t know what else to say. She starred at me as I looked at the rocks on the sidewalk. I stepped on one feeling like a giant that could crush anything but the rock remained. Even after I pressed my entire weight on top of it, it still remained solid. I grew frustrated with it and kicked it. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Ha. Not so tough now, &lt;/i&gt;I thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“What do you say we go for that ride now, huh, since we’re not strangers anymore? We can go to my house and I’ll make you some cookies.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Cookies?” I said and then I remembered Leah’s cookies in my bag. “No, I have to get home.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Well then let me give you a ride. Seems like an awfully long way for you to walk.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;How does she know? &lt;/i&gt;“You promise, just a ride?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“I promise.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Okay then.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
She reached out her hand and I grabbed it as we walked back to her car. The car was big and roomy and she let me ride in the front seat. I never get to ride in the front seat because one of my brother’s would always claim it. I don’t think I would be allowed to ride in the front seat anyway.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Thanks for giving me a ride,” I said to break the silence.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“No problem. You’re your dad’s daughter and I’m his wife so we have to stick together, right?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Right,” I said chuckling. This lady was completely crazy.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Hey, Chloe, I wanted to tell you something.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“What?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Your dad loves you very much. He talks about you all the time. From the moment I met him, it was his passion for you that made me fall in love with him.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Really?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“No kidding.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Wow.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“He really wants you to come and stay with us. We have a room set up for you and everything full of toys and clothes and a lot of pink stuff.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Pink?” I said. “Pink is for Leah. Purple is for me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Who’s Leah?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“She’s my older sister. She gets a room to herself because she’s more special than me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Who told you she’s more special?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Janet did, oh I mean my mom. I call her Janet behind her back because I know it makes her mad but she’s mean to me so this is my way of being mean back.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“How is she mean to you?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Because Leah gets the bows and ribbons and curls and I just get these black rubber bands. She even treats my brothers better than me. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why she doesn’t love me like she does them.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Listen to me, okay Chloe. It’s not your fault, okay. Janet treats you that way because of Janet. Not because of you. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I said okay but I really didn’t understand what she meant. She pulled up into the driveway and it was then that I realized I didn’t tell her how to get to my house. I let the thought go. I had to get inside quick.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Hey Chloe,” she said just before I got out of the car.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Yes.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“If you need anything, give your dad or me a call okay?” she pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Okay.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“And maybe you can reconsider living with us so we can be a family.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Okay,” I said with a smile.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I got out of the car with a little jump from the seat. As I walked inside the house, Janet was standing right by the door with a switch.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Was that your father?” she said as if she’d be scared of the answer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I knew he had a power that could make her treat me differently so I lied. “Yes, that was him.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Where were you after school?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“I was giving cards to my teachers since I’ll be at a different school next year.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Your sister said she looked all over for you.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Why did you leave me?” I asked.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“I did not leave you!” she snapped. “I knew your father was coming to get you and I thought you wanted to spend time with him.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I immediately knew she was lying. I don’t know if I liked having this power because it only made Janet weird and deceitful.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Oh,” I said as I began walking to the back hall to change out of my school clothes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“What’s that in your hand?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Nothing important,” I lied.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Well than let me see it?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“It’s nothing.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“If it’s nothing than let me see it,” she said as she reached down and snatched it from my hand.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
At that moment I was wishing I had went with Paris to her house because if something bad happens I have a place to run to. I watched her as she read the piece of paper and then unexpectedly she gave it back.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“What on earth is that garble-dee-gook?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
I looked at the paper trying to understand what she was talking about. It wasn’t a number at all. What was this Paris had given me? The only thing the piece of paper read was &quot;SSS-BIhE calculator.&quot; What in the world was &quot;SSS-BIhE calculator?&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“It’s a game,” I said quickly. It was the only thing I could think of.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Well take ya game and go on somewhere. Get out of my sight!”&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/7115373844133791511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/7115373844133791511?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7115373844133791511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/7115373844133791511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/05/hope-short-story-part-2.html' title='Hope - Short Story - Part 2'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG9J1ykbmjUbsfTiPp0t1g0dS-xAK6CeGy3-3Stz_BZQfRGDMSXil1XnqQ67Ski-bo1xuAtTORMpdGIYdqeKmIptRQWl14WFsL_Rtp62U0C4XzctqvVmFaLh5sN0aZJ5HRM2OUFlkYS4/s72-c/Hope+2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-876720465707857508</id><published>2012-05-12T15:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-10T15:02:13.601-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Part 1"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Series"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Hope - Short Story - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was an unwanted child. My mother told me to my face. I was the youngest of four children, the results after a shattered marriage, a one-night stand and a broken promise. I knew more hate as a four year old than I thought anyone should ever know. It’s hard to figure wanting love from someone who looks at you with more hate and frustration than they would an animal.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Pleasing my mother was inconceivable but I always did what she told me and did it to my best ability. At six-years-old I was doing the cooking and cleaning. I made the beds, picked up the rooms, and scrubbed the house to keep it as clean as possible. Mother did not approve of anything on her sandy brown carpet and dust was a definite cause for a whipping.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
We lived in a small, three bedroom, ranch style home. Mother got her own room. My two brothers shared a room and my older sister got her own room complete with toys and plenty of clothes. I got the living room couch and a small closet off the end of the hall by the bathroom. Only one time did I question my mother on why I couldn’t share the room with Leah, just to meet with the back of her hand across my face. She didn’t have an explanation. She just said that I was ungrateful.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
On weekends, my siblings would go with their father and get ice cream and toys. He invited me one time, but Mother wouldn’t let me go. “She’s not your daughter and you don’t need to treat her like she is,” she said to him. I smiled when he rolled his eyes and waved her off. I thought of him as a very strong man. He was the only person in the world who could soften my mother. Make her weak. I liked him.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
These weekends were the days that Mother seemed a bit nicer to me. Not too much nicer but she never yelled. I didn’t understand this. Still don’t. I just enjoyed it. The weekend after my 8&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday, she asked me if I wanted to go shopping with her. I was so excited. The feeling was short lived when she told me that it was for Leah, Trenton, and Alex. She told me I could have Leah’s old clothes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I don’t want Leah’s old clothes. I want new clothes too,” I whined.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Before I realized my mistake she snatched me up by my arm so fast. The squeeze from her grip made my skin burn but the look she gave me made me fear her more than the devil.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Fine!” she snapped. “I’ll give away Leah’s clothes to the neighbor girl and you won’t get anything,” she said as she pushed me away from her as hard as she could.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I lost my balance and fell hard on my butt knocking my head into an end table leg. I blacked out for just a moment, but when I came to, she was gone. I got up as quick as I could only to be met by a dizzy feeling which made me crumble back down to the floor. I crawled on my hands and knees to the door searching in the driveway for the car but I only managed to pass out once again.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
When I woke up again, there was a strange man looking over me. He was handsome. His eyebrows were low on his forehead and very well defined. His eyes were dark brown and wide kind of like mine. He had small freckles on his light brown skin and a nice smile. No one ever smiled at me like he did. I instantly thought it was God and I felt the biggest since of relief. “You finally came for me,” I heard myself say.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yes I did,” he said back.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“What took you so long?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
He chuckled, “I think she’s going to be okay, Janet.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
My eyes opened wider. Janet? Why was my momma in heaven? I immediately sat up as straight as I could without feeling as if I was going to pass out. I realized I was only on the couch still in my house. Mom sat on the arm rest by my feet and the stranger sat on the couch next to me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Whoa. Calm down pumpkin. Where are you going?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Nowhere. I don’t think.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“How did you hit your heard?” he asked.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I looked at mom and then quickly back to him. “Umm, I was…”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re okay.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Who are you?” I said to the stranger.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
He smiled again, “I’m someone who has wanted to meet you for the last eight years.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I looked at him still waiting for an answer. I didn’t understand his round about way of telling me who he was. I needed a name or a place of familiarity. I needed something to grasp. He must have noticed my discontent with his answer and said, “I’m your dad.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
My mind said whoa but the rest of me was frozen solid. I didn’t know how to respond to that; how to respond to him.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Well aren’t you going to say something?” he said giving me a little poke on my side. It tickled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Umm, what do you want?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
His smile faded away and he cleared his throat. “Uh, well,” he looked back at my mom and then back to me. “I want you to come live with me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I looked at my mom as she was unmoved by his request.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“My wife and I want you to come live with us,” he corrected himself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Still she remained unaffected as if she was hoping I’d say yes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“What’s your wife’s name?” I asked. The question was completely irrelevant, but I wanted to know if her name was pretty. Prettier than my mom’s.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Uh, Paris,” Dad said.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
“Oh,” I responded. It wasn’t prettier but it was definitely more elegant. It flowed off the tongue when you said it, “Paris,” I repeated.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“So what do you say sweetheart?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
Just as I went to answer, Mom walked away wrapping her hands around her neck as if suddenly feeling distraught. &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;She does want me&lt;/i&gt;. I thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Thanks for the offer, sir, but I have to stay here.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I looked at mother and seen her shoulders slump. I didn’t know if it was because she was relieved or disappointed. I told myself it was because she was relieved. She wouldn’t want me to go. She loves me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
My dad looked at me confused and searched my face for sarcasm. “Are you sure?” he asked.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yes. I’m sure.” I put my feet on the floor and walked over towards Mom. “Mom, can I go outside and play?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yes, you may.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I left out the front door, down the porch steps and hid on the other side of the porch. I wanted to hear if they were going to talk about me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Are you sure she should be running around already?” I heard my father say.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I told you she wouldn’t leave me. She loves me,” my mother said completely ignoring his concern.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“As a child should,” my father responded. “But she needs to know her daddy too. It’s not fair that the other children get to spend time with their father and she doesn’t have one in her life.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“You left!” my mother yelled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“You didn’t want me and now my own daughter doesn’t want me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I’m not going to discuss this with you, Parker. Stop bringing up the past every time I see you.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“If I ever say anything about the past it’s because you lie about it. Forget it. Forget it all, but I will have my daughter. It’s not like you want her anyway. You just use her to get back at me. I love that kid and for eight years I have wanted nothing more than to be a part of her life. What if I hadn’t come? Who knows what would have happened to her and where were you? How did she get hurt anyway? Huh? What kind of person—”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I don’t need you judging me. I do the best I can with all my children. I was gone. I don’t know how the child hurt herself.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“You shouldn’t have left her, Janet. Mark my words, woman, I will have my child. She belongs with me.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“It’s her decision, but she’ll always choose me.”&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I heard footsteps walking towards the door. Just then the screen flung open and he walked onto the porch and down the steps. I watched as he got into his car, a shiny black Cadillac, and drove off.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Chloe!” my mother yelled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I immediately perk up from my hiding spot and ran back inside the house.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I entered the house.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“Sit your behind on that couch,” she snapped.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;Back to the old Janet&lt;/i&gt;, I thought as I did as I was told. I immediately wished I had said yes to the stranger, no matter how weird it may have seemed.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Now, I’m heading back to the mall. Don’t do anything to knock yourself out this time. I don’t need people calling me in the middle of traffic telling me you’re unconscious. What kind of mother does that make me look like?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“But it was because you pushed me into the table,” I said feeling strong and brave for some reason.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
“Don’t you talk back to me,” she said as she rushed towards me with a raised hand. I was sure she was going to strike, but she didn’t. Instead to put her hand down and said, “Don’t you dare talk back to me ever again!”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
This was the part where I was supposed to say ‘yes ma’am’ but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. None of the other children did so I didn’t want to anymore. Things were going to change. For some reason it felt that I had gain some power, but the only way to keep it was if Parker, my dad, wanted me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
Janet grew sick of waiting for my response and snatched up my chin, “Aren’t you suppose to say something.”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I won’t,” I said.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvn-hgclQcZCKfy9SsLI3RyM4pTBdzFnBPkzE8U8IaHO95zUcpgncFLdMIIIqxVGv_nFwbsdT-lOpwvXJ2ozk4R0v9duTxikR7pSdiGhAhcbS-jBjYZ92_SLUhPYdgNSR5OLtYLVKNAg/s1600/Hope+1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; qba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvn-hgclQcZCKfy9SsLI3RyM4pTBdzFnBPkzE8U8IaHO95zUcpgncFLdMIIIqxVGv_nFwbsdT-lOpwvXJ2ozk4R0v9duTxikR7pSdiGhAhcbS-jBjYZ92_SLUhPYdgNSR5OLtYLVKNAg/s320/Hope+1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;“You won’t what?”&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
“I won’t talk back anymore,” I said and snatched my chin away from her grip.&lt;/div&gt;
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She stood there for a while. Froze. I could feel her trying to make a decision to correct me or to hit me. I didn’t look at her. I just waited to see what the outcome would be. Finally she was walking away and for some reason I got a crazy idea to ask her a fanatical question. “Hey Mom,” I said.&lt;/div&gt;
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“What!” she snapped.&lt;/div&gt;
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“Do you think you can give me, Parker’s, um, my dad’s telephone number?”&lt;/div&gt;
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“Ha!” she laughed. “You should’ve asked him for it while he was here,” she said as she continued out the door.&lt;/div&gt;
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I had to find some way to get that number. Who knew how long my upper hand would last. Things couldn’t go back to the way they were especially since things were finally looking up.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/876720465707857508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/876720465707857508?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/876720465707857508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/876720465707857508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2012/05/hope-short-story-part-1.html' title='Hope - Short Story - Part 1'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvn-hgclQcZCKfy9SsLI3RyM4pTBdzFnBPkzE8U8IaHO95zUcpgncFLdMIIIqxVGv_nFwbsdT-lOpwvXJ2ozk4R0v9duTxikR7pSdiGhAhcbS-jBjYZ92_SLUhPYdgNSR5OLtYLVKNAg/s72-c/Hope+1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-4512722815370034050</id><published>2011-09-22T17:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-10T15:03:21.886-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="african american fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="contemporary fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="novel"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflected Image"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Reflected Image - Short Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoBodyTextIndent&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror chanting the words, “Just a little bit longer.” The mirror had a big crack in it, which distorted the face that stared back at her. She was grateful for that. The years hadn’t been good to her 27-year-old structure. Her eyes were blood shot red from lack of sleep and had big black circles beneath them. Her almond brown skin lacked the healthy beautiful glow, and her hair was a tangled mess. She combed her fingers through it in an attempt to make it look a little better. She smiled at herself and instantly closed her mouth again. The tooth was still gone. The front bottom one. Her smile used to be so beautiful especially after her mom spent over 4100 dollars for braces. She looked at her eyes through the cracks of the mirror. Who was that person that stared back at her?&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s1600/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;219&quot; qba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s320/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She turned from the mirror to her bedroom, slash living room, slash dining room, slash kitchen. The entire apartment complex had the same floor plan as her apartment because it used to be a motel complex. The brown shaggy carpet was filled with dirt, grime, cigarette ashes, and anything else that would cling to it. The walls were stained with dirt, old blood from her many nose bleeds, and cigarette smoke. Dirty clothes lay in the corner next to a lamp with a lampshade that had an inch of dust on it.&lt;/div&gt;
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She scratched her head as she climbed into her hide-a-bed, covering only her legs with the blanket. She wore a man’s tank top and boxers. She had no plans to go anywhere so why dress up. She was 5’8” and weighed 117 pounds. She knew she was a little bit too skinny, but she couldn’t keep weight on her if she tried.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “Just a little bit longer,” she stated again to herself as she rocked a little in the bed. She grabbed the remote sitting next to her and turned on the television. A static noise filled the room before the picture adjusted itself for view of the local news. She flipped through the channels before she deemed a show viewable and laid her back against the rest. It didn’t matter what was on television because she wasn’t paying attention. She turned to the ticking clock on the wall. 9:03 AM. She turned off the television and got out of the bed to head to the bathroom where she leaned against the porcelain bathroom sink and stared at herself in the mirror. “Just a little bit longer,” she repeated.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This time it wasn’t quiet. This time she heard the ticking of the clock. Each second seemed to be as loud as the last. “STOP IT,” she yelled, but still the clock continued to tick. She grabbed a hammer that lay on top of the window ledge and with fury raced towards the clock on the wall. In one motion she knocked it from the nail on the wall and smashed the batteries out of it. There. It was silent and she was satisfied. She dropped the hammer a couple of inches from the broken clock and got back in the hide-a-bed. Once again she grabbed the remote and turned on the television. After a minute of not really paying attention to what was on the screen, she turned to the place on the wall where the clock used to hang and at that moment she realized what she had done. A smack echoed the room as both of her hands hit her face in a simultaneous motion. She scrambled out of the bed not caring where the blankets went, grabbing the batteries and placing them back in the damaged clock. She flipped it over waiting for the second hand to regain motion but it didn’t. She gave the clock a little shake and waited for movement but there was none. “Come on,” she pleaded as she shook the clock a little harder this time. “Come on, baby, work please.” She was losing her patience. “Work!” she said as she hurled the clock across the room shattering it against the wall. “Great!” she yelled and groaned.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She got up in a huff as she made her way to the bathroom mirror. Anxiety began to grow along with her frustration with waiting. She was sick of waiting. “How am I going to know how much longer now?” She huffed and fussed at the mirror. She banged her fist against it causing a piece to fall into the sink. She grabbed the piece and left the bathroom, tossing the broken mirror piece on the table. She got in the bed, leaving the television on as she got under the covers and closed her eyes. &lt;i&gt;Maybe when I wake up it’ll be better, &lt;/i&gt;she thought.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She wanted to go to sleep. She didn’t want to do anything else at this moment but sleep. Many thoughts ran through her head keeping her from finding the tranquility of sleep. &lt;i&gt;Just a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer, &lt;/i&gt;she constantly repeated in her head. Finally she was successful. She was asleep. She was calm. She was peaceful.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She felt a nudge on her shoulder but she remained asleep and then she was violently shaken awake. “Get yo butt up, you know you ain’t sleep,” said a man. She groaned a little before her eyes adjusted to the figure in front of her. “What took you so long?” she said.&lt;/div&gt;
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“I had to wait just like you had to wait,” he said. “Here.”&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He handed her a rolled up dollar bill that was tightly wrapped by clear tape. Without a second thought she got out of bed and walked over to her patiently awaited reward. She bowed her head inhaling deeply as the white particles made their way up the makeshift shaft and into her nose. She tilted her head back feeling the burning sensation that she had been yearning for. When she looked back down she noticed that the white particles were sitting on the broken piece of glass. She looked at herself as much as possible and like the many times before, she wasn’t happy with what stared back. &lt;i&gt;Oh God, please help me&lt;/i&gt; she prayed.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/4512722815370034050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/4512722815370034050?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4512722815370034050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/4512722815370034050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2011/09/reflected-image-sneak-peek.html' title='Reflected Image - Short Story'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH9m0llNNaNBGgLVIya6FZzyVjQAkEM8Aq2BvDLo_IB1v8rV2Io15lhdxAdqqrGwMvfBRBccSYIhuSTIJYTgDmtEfrIXzDPpJUjwAQVHYRCdR4n_TnQ3V8sVLxBV3q3uQz8umM-I5jGs/s72-c/Broken+Mirror%5B1%5D.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7779078295777685920.post-8275718121766129652</id><published>2011-03-04T18:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-06-23T14:37:52.609-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black author"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="in the presence of karma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infinity publishin"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yvonne kristine"/><title type='text'>Sneek Peak: In the Presence of Karma</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;She walked into her home seeing Jami’s shoes on the shoe rack. A frown came across her face because if he was here, then that meant he wasn’t out looking for a job as he’d promised he would. She was getting sick of supporting him especially since he’s always promised to take care of her. On top of that, their lease was due in a month. She had no plans to renew it and if Jami didn’t get a job by then, when she moved, he would not move with her. She put her keys on the dining table in a huff ready to have the same conversation that she has been having with this grown man for over a year now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;He lost his job as a metro transit driver because they tried to have him drop a UA but he refuse to take it. He knew it was coming because he had been at the job for six months, and they told him that at your six-month evaluation, we will do a drug test. Therefore, for six months he knew that he was going to have to take the test, but for six month he smoked weed every day and every night. The day of the drop, he walked out. Karma was pissed. With him out of work, this meant that she would have to dig into her savings and pay his portion of everything. She was also mad because this put getting her car on hold and the car he had was unreliable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;She worked as hard as she could as a stylist and put in overtime helping some of the fashion editors and writers. When the executive fashion editor position became available, she applied, and worked even harder to prove she deserved it. Before she knew it, her boss called her into her office and offered her the position with a hefty raise to match. Because they were short staffed, she kept the stylist position on her title. Karma didn’t mind. She loved being able to go to all the fashion shows and help the designers. After a few months she was finally able to get her car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;As she walked towards the bedroom, she heard the television on and the shower running. She decided to put the fight on hold and maybe the two of them could go to the lake and walk around the trail or sit by the water. She was tired of arguing and it had been a while since the two of them hung out like they did before they moved in together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;When Karma opened the door to her room, a brunette haired woman was lying on her bed. Karma was confused. The woman was naked, lying on top of the covers, and her hair was a mess. Karma then became disgusted as she realized the truth. This same woman took her to work, grocery shopping, and anywhere else she needed, all at the request of Jami. This was the same woman that he’d been spending countless hours at her house fixing this or fixing that. This was the same woman. This was the other woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“What the hell are you doing in my house, in my bedroom, without any clothes on?” Karma yelled.&lt;br /&gt;The brunette haired woman didn’t say anything as she covered herself in shame while looking around for her clothes. Karma made her way to the master bathroom sliding back the shower curtain where she found Jami cleaning off the sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“Whoa, hey Baby.” Jami said uneasy looking around Karma’s head into the bedroom for his lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“Yeah right. You’re caught. Get the hell out of my shower.” Karma said shutting off his water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;She walked back out into the bedroom where the brunette haired woman was standing near the door, biting her lower lip, and avoiding eye contact. She was shorter than Karma by more than a few inches and she was also wider. Her clothes were distorted from her throwing them on so quickly and she looked nervous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;Jami came out moments later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He stood an inch taller than Karma even with her 3½ inch heels on. His waist was a little wider than hers and his chest was hairless. The best thing about his body was his chiseled six-pack that stood out for all to see. His freshly cut fade made him as handsome as he was and his honey gold skin was marked with a few tattoos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“So what do you have to say Leslie? Exactly how long have you been screwing my man? Actually, you know what, I don’t want to know. I’m not the type of person who cares for excuses, because no matter what the excuse is, you’re still wrong.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“Damn, Karma, why you tripping? You forever jump to conclusions. I’m not doing her. I love you, you know that,” Jami said moving closer to Karma with his arms stretched out ready to give her a hug.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“That’s bull Jami.” Karma said pushing him with tremendous force that did not faze him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“Oh you love her, huh? And you aren’t screwing me? But I’m pregnant with your baby,” Leslie said in her wannabe-black tone of voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“What did you say?” Karma said losing her breath in Leslie’s words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;“I’m pregnant with Jami’s baby. We’ve been messing around since January.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;Karma sat down on the edge of the bed feeling her legs become weak. Jami didn’t say anything while Leslie ran her mouth about all the details of what’s been going on between them. Karma didn’t hear any of it. She was still stuck on her being pregnant. She and Jami had been trying to get pregnant ever since she miscarried a couple months ago. Karma was hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;;&quot;&gt;She started getting hot as blood rushed to her head and her ears began to ring. Her hands began shaking and out of nowhere, she threw a right punch to Jami’s jaw.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/feeds/8275718121766129652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/7779078295777685920/8275718121766129652?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/8275718121766129652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7779078295777685920/posts/default/8275718121766129652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvonnekristine.blogspot.com/2011/03/sneek-peak-in-presence-of-karma.html' title='Sneek Peak: In the Presence of Karma'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkalRdLT7CQvJsdVsAZ8mcdG7sNzZa7ygLOzmeUz9w09rFl-w7d4QxhBPQj9gANT9JXnMhZUAl-s1BoFuZhDnJ4sXUf3f3v_TB6uhBL67178B9ghpL4B6iQBJn1A70_1CfBI3TY1UgdTE/s72-c/ITPOK.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>