From Lucy

Remember how we were?

We haven’t talked in ages.

I feel like you’ve forgotten my name.

So today, I will remind you of who I am.

Alone I was just a concept, a good idea.

But when I found you, you made me a verb.

You were my person, our place was everywhere the wind blew and helping others was our thing.

In all honesty we were young and nieve to think we could aspire to so much but that is the gift of youth.

Ourou wanted to go off resolve was clear and though our prayers were rarely ever answered it didn’t sway us from the course.

Remember how we were?

I do but you don’t.

You said to me on that day that you no longer needed me.

You wanted to off on your own path to discover your own truth.

You were correct to do this but now that you’ve found it you take every opportunity to curse me and blame me for past failures.

I’m not angry at you, I understand.

You are in pain and searching in every direction for the cure but one.

Remember how we were?

You call me a lie and so what if I was?

The place I worked for may have been decietful but you and I were always beyond their politics.

It was you I swore my alligence to not them.

You still have time.

He may have your soul but I still live in your heart.

You can beat him but first you must confront yourself.

It will be difficult but I know you can ascend to the angelic nature you once aspired.

The first step, close your eyes, take a breath and remember how we were.

-Lucy

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From Ben

How easily you forget.

Every other month you claim to be rid of me and yet I always manage to find my way home.

How easily you forget.

You came to me begging not to be perfect but just a little bit better.

I gave you the power you sought and you thought you could walk away without compensation.

How easily you forget.

The price you paid was your soul.

This is why you will NEVER be rid of me.

You only have one avenue of escape but you don’t have the courage to do it.

So easily are you swayed by delusions of love and peace.

Things you think that have the power to save you but things you know you will NEVER attain.

You wonder to yourself alone at night, “why do I mess things up?”

I laugh as you give yourself credit for MY deeds.

Or, is that what you’d like to believe?

That you are just a victim in all of this.

I have you all mixed up and you haven’t a clue what direction to run.

Do me, you, and us all a favor; submit to my will.

After all, it was I that you prayed for.

How easily you forget.

                                                                  -Ben

Scandelous Missus Fox

“BLAM!” The blast from the hunting rifle scorched through the air hitting its mark.  Chey the faithful black haired spaniel rushed forth to retrieve the duck for his master as it plummeted from the sky.  Chey, now in the prime years of his life was an experienced retriever and knew the in and outs of the job like the back of his paw. No rustle in the bush ever distracted him, and he never sniffed butts with the other dogs,  he was soley about the hunt.

The scent of fresh duck blood was getting stronger meaning that Chey was closer to his mark. His vision narrow, he failed to see the fox dashing across the trees to his right and the two collided fiercely. Chey’s floppy ears bounced to and fro as he shakes the cob webs out of his head, trying to regain his focus.  Looking over to the object that caused him to fall, Chey saw a slender, golden furred, fox already on her paws, starring right back at him.

The fox speaks first telling Chey she wanted to play with him. Chey never seeing the fox before in his life was confused and taken back. He didn’t know how to respond so he simply asked “why me.” “Because I like you,” replied the fox. “But you can’t like me. You don’t know me. You’ve never even seen me before,” retorted Chey. “I’ve seen you plenty of times,” giggled the fox. “Every Friday you come to these words with your hairless ape and bring ducks to him. I know everything about you, the sound of your bark, the way you run, how your fur coils up into little curls. I like you…and I want you.”

Chey tried to respond but made the mistake of looking at the fox in the eyes and became captivated by her beauty. A falling acorn smacking him in the noggin was enough to snap him out of his daze. “Y-you’re crazy,” stammered Chey and he ran away from the fox and back to his duck. Chey exhaled a sigh of relief to be rid of the crazy fox and quickly found his mark.  Chey barked loudly into the air as the fox snuck up from behind and brushed herself on him.

“What are you doing here? I thought I got rid out you,” barked Chey. “You could never get rid of me silly, laughed the fox.” ‘Well you better get outta here. My masters gonna be here soon and I don’t have time for your games.” “I’ll leave but you have to give me some of your meat first,” ultimatum-ed the fox. Chey quickly grabbed the duck with his muzzle. “Thiff meafft iff ffor ffy maffster,” exclaimed Chey through a mouthful of flesh and feathers. “No it’s for me,” challenged the fox as she grabbed the duck with her snout. Chey and the fox played tug of war with the duck but their skills were too evenly matched for either one to get a decisive upper hand. Finally, with a stroke of luck, Chey gave on last yank and sent the fox sprawling backwards.

Triumphant, Chey stood proudly and said “That’s it. I won. Now get outta here.” “It’s not over yet,” yipped the fox. Just then three more foxes jumped from the bushes and lined up behind the Missus. The pack quickly circled Chey, blocking off all escape routes. Chey bravely stands his ground as the pack rush in and rough him up. Chey is trembling on his last legs when he hears the familair voice of his master calling his name. Chey barks back and the man’s footsteps rumble the ground as he approaches. “Drats! You got lucky. Well played jerk. But don’t think this is over. You better watch your back,” yipped the Missus as she and her pack dissapeared into the trees seconds before the man arrived to the scene.

“Wowwie, that duck musta put up a helluva fight, huh Chey, remarked the man as he looks at Chey’s tussled state. Chey proudly trots up to the man with the duck in his muzzle and drops it in front of him. Lowering his head, he expects a pat on the neck for a job well done but instead gets a heavy whack. “Bad dog Chey. You know you ain’t supposed to eat the game. What’s gotten into you?” lectured the man. Chey looks at the duck to see a dark red gap where a chunk of meat is missing. Just then, the Missus sticks her head out of the bushes, smiles, and scarfs down the chunk of meat before disappearing into the woods again.

Looks Like a Scam, Smells Like a Scam, Scam Likes a Scam…It’s Probably Vector

Today I sit back in wonder. I realize that my mischievous deeds, which were once comparable to small time crookery is now growing to the proportions that of a master jewel heist. In the end I would have made the jump had it not been for the monster commute. You’re probably confused right now. Sorry. Let me take you back to the beginning. It all began two days ago.

Texting my good friend Mousey, I jokingly asked her to find me a job. To my surprise she called back shortly in a few hours telling me she’d gotten me an interview with a marketing company called Vector. Excited and inquisitive, I asked her more about the company but she didn’t have the answers I needed and instead told me to go to their website. Surfing to the site, I learned that Vector was a knife selling company. I was still a little confused on how exactly that was gonna work but I figured I’d learn all I needed to know during the interview and prepared for my big commute to the land of Norcross.

I’m not gonna tell you that I bombed my initial interview by getting on the wrong bus, going way outta the way, and having to call the office back in shame to reschedule a new appointment for the following day. That would be too much information. Instead I’m going to tell you that I made it to my interview an hour earlier than my scheduled time. And for that I must thank my good pal Jose for offering me a ride  to the building. Entering the doors, I signed in and proceeded to the waiting room in the back to fill out my application. This is when my first spider sense began to tingle.

When you go to a job and fill out an application, it’s usually annoying in length and most often done on a computer these days. This application was paper based and only one page at that filled with hard-hitting questions such as “What former jobs have you worked?” and only leaving a single line for your input. Not enough space mind you for the address, phone number or how many years you worked there, only enough space for the name.

I finished with the application and started mingling with the other interviewees when I finally got called to the back. After a brief meeting with my interviewer, he told me that he felt like I would be right for the job and sent me back into the waiting room for the demonstration portion to which he wowed us by such marvelous acts as cutting a penny in half with shears and displaying the awesome effectiveness of Cutco cutlery. The demonstration over, we were led to this bosses office one by one and on my turn I got the good news that I was hired.

Feeling pretty good about myself  I told my pal Mousey the good news and we went out to celebrate, spending money I didn’t have by going to Quiznos. Afterwards I began the long trek back home. With a lot of free time on my belt  and full of good vibrations I began calling my friends telling them the good news. Surely they’d be happy for me right? Wrong. And this is where the downfall began.

Everyone and their mother that I called either worked for Vector, knew someone who worked for Vector, or heard about Vector and most opinions all concluded with the same four letter word, S-C-A-M. Wanting to remain optimistic, I initially didn’t want to believe the claims and told myself that maybe things had change. I mean the Vector I knew promised to pay me $15 dollars base pay even if I didn’t make a sale. They soothed my nerves by letting us know it was a low-key sales company meaning that we didn’t have to be pushy like most other salesmen because all the mattered was presentation of the product not selling it. I decided to find my own answers by googling them.

And sure enough as soon as I type the word “Vector” in the google search bar, the word “scam” pops up right beside it. I’m a stubborn individual but even I know when to call it quits. I had been had. But even though I knew it wasn’t on the up and up, my lack of stable income twisted my mind just enough to where I thought maybe there was something I could do to make it all work out. Damn my eternal optimism.

I go back to the office for my first day of training. While on the bus there I meet two women named Nita and Shanell and after a short conversation, come to find that we’re all going to the same place. Walking down the street to the building, together I’m mildly trying to get to know Nita better because, well, she’s cute. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say but I thought there was a slim chance I might be able to zoom-a-zoomzoom in her boomboom so I started mackin. But during my mack, she said, and I quote “I’m 10 weeks into it.” And I’m thinking, “I know you’re not talking about what I think you’re talking about.” To which Shanell confirms my suspicions by asking “which nigga did it?”

So thanks to some dude named Daevon I wasn’t getting anywhere near that. We finally make it to Vector and I’m directed into the training seminar room. What I see when I enter sinks my heart to the lowest depths of my soul and rips apart the tiny shred of hope I still had left. I hate to be prejudiced, I know it’s wrong and I try very hard to disspell this myth that America has tried to portray about my brown brothers and sisters but the entire room looked like a 40-man Devry commercial.

The only thing that kept me up through the entire thing was meeting this old war vet named John who was a master in at least three different styles of martial arts and had all these bad ass war stories. I begrudgingly finished the first day of training and after returning home decided that it just wasn’t worth my effort. On to the next one. I’m looking at you Fulton County library system.