Life's Story (>>): By Myself, I

The brown-haired man said, “I was scraping to get by. I lifted my face and hands which were new, and I was scraping bone, which was yelling at me to stop it. They had put this life in mine by “mistake.” (The kid never had to account. He, this squirrely Black kid with 1 1/2 inch thick hair, always had a smile, and always will because he could be the devil. His parent didn’t care, and he had the privilege of being the ‘one’ even though he was 2.) My life was forfeit . I had gotten it wrong again. We went through this twice a day – morning and early evening.”
“And I heard the round booming “I want to be” and I thought ‘I want_ to be, I think.’ I am a man with brown hair, lanky with no stuff inner and outer yet. I got up and walked. The ground was cold rock brick, and then cold dirt, and then cold rock brick continuing. (He-She made this, an environment for me to travel. And when I get to the end of the pathway, there is black sky, cool, rich and foreboding. I wait, I can’t fly, and I fall asleep dead, knowing that someone gets to be alive after me. I will show up later.”
“We were assembled like family. I was invited because I could contain life. Someone smaller like me – with a crass deep ‘I don’t care’ voice – was also assembled with the party of ten. Half were white-haired men, and 1/3 were brown-haired men, and the last 2 were Black lifespans- one original and one a dead kid. The white men said a miracle to have the originating Black lifespan support their life as the other existence race and it was done. Everyone woke up to say hi and walk away. (The kid was left flat.) This was the first time all had been alive at once. The originating Black lifespan was both spent and in repose as the sponsor of all things. Everyone was optimistic. Life would be consistent.”

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