Space Fold

Space Fold

Five years ago, this was a foreign land. I'd walked past it, around it, maybe through it trying to make a short cut home, before Mom got there. Then she got married to that, half crippled muthafuckah and we moved to the 'burbs, everything I knew was ten blocks away from here and I don't know. I feel like I want to live here the rest of my life. I mean I want to go other places and visit, but I love campus life. I love my little apartment, my room mates. Sunijya catches herself drifting between the green shade of live oaks, black maples and crabapple and spots of light beneath painfully blue cloudless autumn sky, and remind herself that she is still in the hood. Blackwell Park is just an oasis in the ghetto.

Understanding the place she came from and the people she left there was easy. Professor Steveland was a puzzle she'd given up weeks ago. I realized that I wasn't interested in the things he's passionate about, enough to distract him. Just like that fuckin' Papillion. She spoke out loud, "I am so glad I wasn't a virgin when I fucked him". By the time she realized that she'd spoken her emotion aloud, she already offended the woman passing. She thought, I'd still be there under his shining blue black big dick slinging ass. Stupid fucker!

Slow Rain

Slow Rain


He lay there, white, cold, naked.
Dead as the flies on the windshield, beautiful as cut orchids
Dead just the same.
Sunijya hadn't thought about the image of his mother's border in a long while , maybe it was the heat.
The air felt like glue and she prayed for night fall, rain, thick rough hands gently caressing her ass. Anything other than the painfully blue, cloudless autumn skies that offered no shelter.

You learn when you've lived in places where it's like this all the time to move slowly and only when you have to. Her southern relatives all walked slow, talked slow and pretended to be slow. That ass wipe Hollis was southern and did everything slow except fuck and cum. Which was kind of a blessing. All those damned Promethazine Slurpies. It was over almost as fast as it started. I was hitting a fat blunt filled with some John Sinclair Tribute. Taste like Blueberry Bubblegum, hit like Diesel. I'd leaned over to program a playlist and light some incense. When I rolled back over, this bitch was right if front of my face with his dick out and hard as diamonds. "Sunny,  You got a sexy little yella ass 'n' shit. You should hook a up niggah forreal." I thought about burnin' the tip of his cock with my blunt, but was a long run back home to Detroit. Screaming wasn't an option in the suburbs of suburban Prairieview and Hollis was two hundred pounds of hay bale throwing dumb country fuck if he was a pound. Okay Hollis, but you need a rubber ducky niggah, I can't be getting knocked up and shit. You know. "I-I'll pull out 'n' shit, you know I ain't got no duckies." I got that shit covered nig. You can't be just fuckin' without protection. Yo punk ass can get burnt. I slipped the condom over his short fat dick, rolled over and told him to hit it from the back real slow, but Hollis was some strange hybrid between a scent hound and a bunny. He was humping like mad and I don't think he ever really penetrated me. I was pissed and told him to eat my pussy. For some reason, eating cooch after fuckin' it makes brothers not brag about hittin' it. 

I don't know what's going on, other than the damned heat, everything is fine.

I wish it would rain. 

After All

...But only for dreams that never were mine.
Sunijya hummed around this phrase, wondering
how it had found it's way into her and the look on her
mother's face, when ever she heard her singing it.

Bliss had a little girls face that she hated less by the years and a big ass, that once was her prize possession. Bliss stared sideways at her daughter, wondering why she always got the strange desire to reach out and slap the teeth out of this girl's mouth, whenever she heard Sunijya humming that tune. The girl always hummed around it.

At least the streets were quiet out here. Two cars, nice house, good school, good man. Niggah used to be the biggest hoe, before he busted his ass, fucking 'round on that bike and wrecked his basketball career. "Get the fuck outta here CJ!" Bliss called her only child that, but her daughter loved the way her middle name felt in her mouth "Sue neeh Yah". She imagined it meant little wings of the sun and had mystic powers. She was seventeen and a junior in collage, but she couldn't help but entertain that fantasy. She couldn't help a lot of shit she didn't understand about her life. Like why she chose to major in Intellectual copyright law and minor in stellar cartography. But it was working, she was up for a fellowship grant that would pay for her entire graduate program. She manage it by agreeing to work as an intern for Bernard Morris, a professor of African antiquities trading and international commerce.  

"The Internet Miss Jamison", The large man snapped around on his heel, focusing his attention on the center of Sunijya's high round forehead, "hold's nearly ninety percent of all known human information. Do you understand why it must never be more than that?" Sunijya avoided the attention he focused on her eyes as much as possible. Crossing the room so that the afternoon light that filtered though the crowded courtyard would shade her face and back light her thin, but well curved body. "Some languages have no sounds, Miss Jamison". He continued, switching on a reading light. "Because they were created in a vacuum, in a void, in chaos, not everything is meant for commerce young lady, antiquities' laws, copyrights, patents and international trade defines what those things are and more importantly, what they are not, some of these things are called national treasures". Professor Morris, filtered through a catalog, placing little note flags on the things that interested him on sight. "I'm warning you the client we'll be working with is, let's say, to be polite about it, he's a fucked up individual. A serious recluse, with a serious collection, that needs to be bequeathed to this University. When we go see him, please wear less provocative clothing. I don't want him distracted from the task. He's trying to create an intellectual copyright in trust for something in a work of fiction, that doesn't exist yet.

Sunijya fought to forget the snippet of the song out of her head, she thought, some things just aren't worth the effort.