I’m sorry I have offended thee….

This short prose is in response to a daily prompt challenge https://adorablyobnoxious.wordpress.com/2014/12/16/daily-prompt-wronged-objects/

Imagine that your furniture, appliances, and other inanimate objects at home had feelings and emotions, to which item would you owe the biggest apology?









My Dear Sofa, I owe you the greatest apology. Clearly you deserved much respect than the way I have treated you over the years. Yes it is proper to sit, lounge, or even take the occasional nap, but it is not proper to, let’s say for the occasional “sexual healing.” For that heavy petting, caressing, bumping and grinding, I’m sorry.

Now that I’m older and I sit to think of the “pleasantries” that have taken place on you, I am sure my “little” actions were not at all pleasant for you. Again, I’m sorry. You deserve to be worshiped, cherished, groomed, pampered and adorned, so now I adorn you with every embellishment that I can afford, I lounge, relax on you, caress you, and maybe the occasional nap, but I will no longer treat you the way I did in the past, I just hope that you forgive me for my past transgressions.





Walk through the Forest



Finally a day that is cool enough to enjoy life, go for a walk, ride a bike, or sit outside on your porch. The past few days have been scorching, so hot that one could actually save on gas, go outside and allow the sun to cook the food. On this cool day I decided to go for a walk in a nearby trail. Walking through this pathway is almost like walking through a rainforest, I imagine, I mean I haven’t actually been to a rainforest, would love to someday, I guess, but it’s the woods or the forest some people may say, personally I don’t know the difference.

As I walk further down the path I am shaded by the canopy of trees which created such a cool relaxing breeze, I started to listen to the birds converse with each other, I wish I could understand their language, maybe I would be able to join in, maybe I can see if they were talking about me, I mean I’m somewhat invading their territory, I’m sure a lot of people who walk or run these trails also violate their home. I began to get tired and started to wish for a place to sit and rest, I thought I may have to turn around and walk back home but I can spot a bench further down the path.

I thought this would be great to sit in the middle of an umbrella of trees, watching how nature live and not really thinking about anything. As I got closer to the bench I had to wipe my eyes, twice, there was an orangutan sitting on the far right side of the bench. I thought I was daydreaming or maybe I was delirious,maybe it was a good idea that I sat down for awhile, maybe I was really fatigued and my eyes was playing tricks on me. 

I approached the bench, the monkey was still there, my tiredness was worse than I thought. The orangutan did nothing, just stared at me as I was staring at him, I sat down on the far left side of the bench, intentionally trying to avoid eye contact just in case this “scene” was for real and wasn’t a figment of my imagination. I sat for a while, not thinking, not talking, staring up at some very tall, fully leaved trees, then it began. 


I turned my head to stare at the orangutan and he spoke, again,


All I could do is stare in disbelief, my fatigue is really worse than I thought or I need to lay off the vodka for a few days.










All Comped Out




Something strange happened today in the amidst of my mail I’ve notice a handwritten envelope.
Now this is something you don’t see everyday. So different..So rare in this world of of high tech too complex for my mind to grasp. So I tossed aside my bills and what I assume to be junk mail and concentrated my energy on this beautiful envelope and what exists inside. I carefully opened it my heart jumping for glee what could be inside waiting for me. I smiled some more as I unfolded this letter written in cursive on stationery of wildflowers and hummingbirds. Something you don’t see everyday. Back to basics. Old School. The penmanship so beautiful, cursive writing so rarely seen. Complete sentences, no abbreviations LOLs, Ks, or IDK that I can’t understand. Handwriting so legible, sentences that I can understand I didn’t have to search on the internet for any acronyms. Back to basics. I was so impressed overjoyed with tears. That someone took the time to hand write it all out not just one page but many pages. Something you don’t see everyday in a world so busy. But at the end of this letter I was caught by surprise of the written words: Bye Cousin, hit me up on FaceBook.

Back to basics.

This is a hold up

It is a hot day, not just a hot day an extremely hot day, so hot that concrete is cooking, and the stores are crowded, mostly people are trying to soak up free air conditioning, it beats using their own air conditioners. Why use your own when you can use a company’s, save a little money when you can.

Some people walking around the store acting as if they are shopping, others are actually shopping, I guess they rather be at home, me, myself would rather be at home too, I can see the logic of using a company’s air condition as oppose to my own, but it’s much more relaxing at home, besides how many times can one keep saying, “Excuse me!” “Pardon me!”
It gets annoying after awhile.

I finally got all the groceries I needed or could afford and stood in a long line, all the lines are long, it seems every person in the city have the same idea, use the company’s air conditioner, the more I think about this idea, the more illogical it begins to sound, these lines seem like the longest lines ever, it seems like I’ve been standing for hours, maybe it’s because it’s so hot.

All the other lines seem to be moving, slowly, but moving, except the line I chose to stand in, everyone was trying to find out why this line was not moving. It turned out that the “lady” in the front of the line was trying to purchase her groceries with a credit card, when her credit card was declined she tried to use another one, this continued for several minutes and people were becoming very agitated.

It’s already hot, feels like “we” are burning in fire and brimstone, this lady is going through every credit card she owns that keeps getting declined, people are getting angry, the cashier is too stupid to tell the lady she has to put the stuff back she exceeded the limit of attempts. People are losing their patience, their cool, this brings a new meaning for, “This is a hold up.”


The Meeting











I was sitting in the park alone, eating lunch, sharing it with the birds and the squirrels, enjoying the scenery, the slightly breezy weather, I decided to take out the book which I was reading when a gentleman asked to sit beside me, I did not mind, as long as he was quite and not very talkative, I do need to return this book to the library soon and this is one of the books I really would like to finish. He was young, definitely younger than me, but not that young almost in his thirties, casually dressed in jeans, polo shirt and designer sneakers, olive complexion or what my friends would say, light skinned.  I was trying to observe him, just enough to “touch” my curiosity, I did not want him to think I was interested, he is much too young and my son is about the same age and would have a “fit.”

He tried to spark a conversation first by asking about the book which I was reading, I switched my eyes over to him, signaling that I did not want to be disturbed, after a while I did not want to appear rude, so I talked about what I read so far in this book. It appeared he was not going to stop talking because he continued speaking to me this time about living in the city, since it seemed I was not going is to get any reading done because it’s difficult to listen to someone talk without being rude and listen to my inner voice read these wonderful words in this lovely book, I stopped reading and decided to participate in the conversation. Besides it’s been a while since I had a somewhat meaningful conversation that did not involve my inner voice or my cat and the cat is not a good conversationalist at all, very stubborn. He starts to speak again.

“Living in the city is wonderful, there are parks and shops and museums, and food, if you lucky to get a good restaurant.”

“Yes it has it benefits, I do like the park.”

“I love sitting in the park, watching people, watching nature grow before your eyes.”

“Well I don’t know about nature growing, I think you would have to sit a while to see that, it grows at its own speed, but watching the birds and the squirrels, how they play, or don’t play, watching the people, sitting in the park on a nice day or not so nice day is therapeutic, I do it when I can.”

“What about the museums, the galleries, the food?”

“Well I do love the food, depending on the food truck or restaurant, I don’t visit galleries like I should, it would be something new for me and of course if I don’t visit galleries I don’t visit museums.”

“Don’t you like them?”

“I love art and exhibits, I don’t know what stops me.”

“You should, it’s good entertainment, for the mind and soul.”

“I spend a lot of time in the library.”

“Reading is good too.” “Some libraries have exhibits.”

I just nodded in agreement. We were silent for a while. Both of us just observing scenery. He decided to spark conversation, again.

“So what type of food do you like?”

“I don’t have a favorite type as long as the food is good, I like it.”  “If I find a restaurant that serves good food, it could be Thai, Chinese, Italian, Indian, whatever, if it’s good I will go to that restaurant.”  “Even a good truck if the food is good my stomach wants to go to that truck.”

“But I do like a good sandwich.”

“Sandwiches are wonderful.”

“You like coffee shops, you like the ones with internet access?”

“When I go to a coffee shop especially when I go early, I like to purchase my coffee, sit at a table where there is a lot of sun glare and just relax”

The conversation stops for a while. Both of us resumed watching the scenery around us. We looked at each other periodically and smiled. I thought it would be safe to resume my reading.

“Well it was nice to talk to you, we need people to talk to once in a while.” “Thank you for talking with me, it was a very pleasant conversation.”

He held out his hand for me to shake. I shook his hand and smiled. I watched as he walked down the path on his way out the park. I thought how nice he was, it’s good when you meet nice people even if they are in your life for minutes, it’s those few minutes that make you realize there are still nice people living in the city.

I resumed my reading, uninterrupted, which was nice. It appeared that I was reading for hours without even noticing the scenery around me, it was getting dusk by the time I finally took notice, I took out my cell phone to check the time, put the book in my bag and made my way out the park and towards going back home.

When I got home and checked my voice mail, I received a disturbing message about a close friend, she had been attacked. I grabbed a different handbag, made sure I had my phone, money, keys and made my way to the hospital. When I reached the hospital room where my close friend was, I was in shocked, her face was badly bruised, she was surrounded by her family; her parents, her sister and brothers, all trying to comfort and ease her pain, what she must be going through.

I went over to her bed, hugged her family members, her mother stepped aside so that I could give her a hug.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Of course she was so distraught and frightened. A female officer asked if she could come into the room to talk with her. My friend shook her head, she asked if her family and I could stay with her as the police officer wanted more details about what happened and show pictures of the suspect. I was surprised she was so responsive, so willing to give information about the attack. I felt sad for her and proud of her at the same time. She really wants this guy to pay the price for this crime. Then the officer showed pictures of possible suspects, I thought sure the “interview” will stop but Kelly kept going through the process, flipping through a series of photos, then it happened. As Kelly was flipping through the book, I happened to see a familiar face, it was him, I was in shock, I was further astonished when Kelly chose the attacker that turned out to be him. I gasped. Everybody looked at me. Kelly and the officer looked at me.

“I’m in shock” I said.

I pointed to the picture of this guy, the suspect, the guy that I met only briefly, the guy that appeared so nice, so kind, so friendly. Thoughts began to plague my mind “Is this how he get his victims? Was he planning to stalk, attack me? “What made him talk to me? “Am I safe.”

“I was talking to this guy while I was in the park today” “He seemed so nice.”

The officer closed the book, wrote down some notes in her book, and thanked me and Kelly for the information, she was in a rush, she told Kelly they will track and catch this guy, the officer suggested that I stay with friends for a little while,just to stay on the safe side, she assured me they would catch this guy very soon, they have the evidence and information they needed.

The officer left the room. I was shaking my head. Kelly’s mother came over to me and gave me a hug. You just never know. You just never know.



Date Night

Last night I went on a blind date. I hate blind dates-actually I hate dating-period, but since this one was set up by my cousin, whom I love so much, I figure this one would be a good one. I got ready early decided to wear my short red dress, red sheer stockings and red pumps. I was very anxious so I waited by the door and kept looking out the peep-hole periodically.  I started to daydream of this guy being my perfect date-my dream date-my future husband-the father of my children. I was started by the ring of the doorbell, it must have been a good dream, I was excited to see how my dream date look I sneaked a peak from the peep-hole. “Not bad, I thought to myself, average looking his wired small rimmed glasses was becoming of him.” “He looks kind of tall so that’s good.” I opened the door. He wasn’t that tall at all. He wore a blazer grey polo shirt and dark blue jeans. We briefly introduced ourselves, I closed, locked my door and we walked in silence down the street.

We stopped at this red and white motor scooter, he handed me a helmet. “Oh hell no!!” I thought to myself.

“You don’t own a car?” I realize this was a stupid question but who wants to ride on a motor scooter sitting behind a guy they don’t know?

“No!” “This is it!!”

I just sighed and shook my head, looks like this date is off to a bad start. He got on to his little scooter, I reluctantly got on behind him and he drove us through my neighborhood into town, it seemed like the longest ride ever. He rode up to the curb, this block had several small restaurants and various shops. We got off the scooter put away the helmets and started to walk.

“So where are we going?”

“To this neat fifties style restaurant.”

I smiled, I love the fifties; the music, the style of clothing, everything about it, this date may go good after all. We reached the restaurant, it was set like a fifties ice-cream and burger shop, music from the fifties was playing and I’m beginning to feel calm and my mood is brightening. We waited by the hostess station until we seated at a booth, on the table was a mini jukebox. My date took out some quarters, put the coins in the slot and played some music. The waiter took our orders, we both ordered milkshakes, I ordered chocolate, he vanilla. In addition he ordered a double cheese burger and fries, I ordered a fried hotdog and fries. We talked, small talk basically until the waiter returned with our milkshakes.

It’s been a long time since I had a really good milkshake, I was hoping this one would be as good as I imagine, if it is, things will look good for my date, I would consider remaining contact with him, maybe we can share tweets, then all of a sudden, my date began making sounds. I looked at him, he was holding his milkshake up to his face, his eyes were shut, he was slowly slurping his milkshake and he was making sounds like he was in ecstasy, he looked as if he was having an orgasm and I have nothing to do with this. I began to feel embarrass, I looked around the restaurant, people are staring at us, I can feel myself turning red as this guy is having an orgasm over a milkshake. When he finishes, he opens his eyes, he looks at me, then he looks around him, he holds his head down as people stared at us.

Our jukebox stopped playing, the restaurant is quiet, my date and I just sit in silence, I sipped my milkshake with extreme humiliation, I couldn’t even enjoy the taste of my milkshake because I’m so mortified. The waiter finally brings our food. My date and I ate in silence along with everyone else in the restaurant, it seemed like we ate very quickly, so quickly my stomach began to hurt, I just wanted to go home, lie on my bed and scream.

After we ate, we got up, our heads down low, walked quickly to the register. He paid the bill, we rushed out the door, not looking back. He walked back toward the scooter, I started to walk the opposite direction.

“The scooter is this way.”

“I know, I’m going home the other way.”

“I can take you home.”

“I rather walk.”

“But that’s several miles, it will take you forever to get home, let me take you.”

“I’m good.”

And started walking quickly down the street with my date staring at my back. I have to remind myself to write my dear cousin out my will.




What’s in a name?



My name is August Wilson Thomas.

My momma told me she named me after the great African-American playwright and author, August Wilson.

I was curious to who he was, so I looked him up;

August Wilson was born April 27, 1945 he was an American playwright who wrote plays depicting African-American life. He frequently read the works of Langston Hughes, Richard Wright, and Ralph Ellison. He wrote several plays but is well-known for his play Fences.

I got teased a lot at school because of my name. When I try to tell the kids at school who I was named after, they just gave me blank stares, not one kid knew he was. Not even the adults I asked heard of this man. If anything I knew the adults would know, but I was wrong. Anyway I would get into fights, I was detention and in-house suspension almost everyday, my teacher was upset with me, she told me so during lunch detention one day. She asked me if I knew who August Wilson was. I replied, “Yes.”

“Well, you’re putting his name to shame, getting into all these fights, staying in trouble.” She said.

“Kids bully me because of my name.”

“What’s in a name?” “It’s not the name that makes you, it’s what you decide to do with your life, your talents, your potential.”

“I have potential?”

“Everyone who is born has potential”

“You could be a doctor, a lawyer, President of the United States, even a writer.”

“I don’t think I wanna be President, that is too much cross to bear.”

“Well you could do anything if you are determined and willing to work hard for it.”

“I can be a writer…like August Wilson.”

“Sure, all you need to do is practice, practice, practice and with training and motivation you can be the great American author like August Wilson.”

“I got teased from adults too.”

“People just don’t know any better.” “The greatest thing you can do is to rise above all negativity and focus on positivity.”

“Focus on the positive, focus on what you want, how you want to live your life and the legacy you want to become, nothing else matters.”

I smiled and began to feel good inside.

I decided I wanted to make August Wilson proud, I wanted to become a writer and it starts now.

My name is August Wilson Thomas.

My momma named me after the great African-American playwright, August Wilson.