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He was standing in the doorway of an abandoned apartment building that had been burned up last year. He was a homeless man, that collected cans for money and got a big government check every month from disability. I heard that he makes hundreds of dollars a week turning in cans. Percy was an old pervert that lived in his van and had money to trick off. I asked Percy if he had any money and he told me that nothing in life is free. Everyone knew this old man was a pervert by the way he looked at young girls in the neighborhood. I knew what he wanted so I walked past him into the abandoned apartment. It was dark, cold and still had the stench of homeless people in the air. Percy began opening my shirt, grabbing my breast in a rough disrespectful way. I could smell the alcohol on his stank breath as he spoke. He told me to lie down on this broken down couch that looked as if it had been pissed on repeatedly. The couch was moist and cold and I could tell by the way it scratched my back that it had burn holes everywhere. I couldn’t really tell how filthy it was, I could only imagine. As I laid back Percy began to push me and eagerly climb on top of me, “aw yea bitch, you gone remember Percy Purse.” I didn’t worry about him using a condom ‘cause I thought he was too damn old to get me pregnant. While he pounded in and out of me all I could think of was getting high.
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Available for school readings & literacy events, public speaking events and book clubs appearances.
I never knew such rage existed-that a brewing pot of hatred, perverseness and cynicism could occupy the dwelling chambers of a single human being’s mind. It didn’t exist, that is until I met the devil. He had shape-shifted into human form. He was a dead give away with those beady red eyes, red skin, smoke blazing from his nostrils and filthy mouth.
Coming soon, 2022
The sequel to Falling From Grace, RITA
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