Brownstonelit's Blog

11/11/11

R and I scheduled a reading for 11:11 PM on 11/11/11 and who do you think showed?

Charley… who sends me a ship in a bottle… a message.

Hazel…who brings me roses as thank you.

My parents… who tell me to hang my wreathe!

The shooter… who continues to vomit, spewing his guts in an effort to cleanse his soul.

Roxanne… who shows us the bakery and bids us speak to V.

The mistress…who says this is who she was. Cruel, cold hearted. She knew no other way, but has made her peace with Charley on the other side. She admits to using men as stairs, stepping one to the other- getting what she wanted for the moment and then moving on. She makes no apologies- no excuses for her behavior.

And what is this? Someone new?

Someone who knew the 4-way very well. Someone who wore a brown suit.

A black man who remains stuck in his untimely death.

Grim? I’ve caught you in a lie- but then this is just one of many. You said you and he were best friends. You helped count his money- refused to sell him a car?

Odd choice for a friend, Grim- a known felon, cozy with the law?

Hmmmmm… He saw you take the money from G, you know? Saw your greedy fingers grab and tear at the bills. Saw you double-cross him. He was furious, hiding in the woods as the money changed hands.

“You lied, you lied…” he said. “It was not suppose to go down like this! I know what you’ve done. I know and I will tell.”

But he never got the chance.  He was run over by a car shortly after. That too was called an accident. Just how many accidents have there been in Valdosta with your name imprinted all over them, Grim?

He has not moved on Grim. I would be careful if I were you. He knows. He saw.

G ratted you out. BM cannot forgive you.

So we ask G about LT.

Who is the man who had a thing for feathers too? A man who had a special feather? A lucky feather- brown and white. He put it in the band of his Fedora and kept it there even in death. Was in a wheelchair at the end? Buried with his hat…this is G’s LT.

She shows us the plow…he is a farmer too perhaps? It is an old plow.

I know of one LT that might fit this description. He lived not far from my other farmer who has the mustache and walks with a cane. They were near the railcars that carried illegal hooch between two stations. He knew about it all. The farmer in Florida- the cheese cutter and the silver lunchbox knows it all too. Near dead is not near enough. Confess before you leave this world dear man with the W in his name.

Death knocks at your door and opportunity knocks just once to tell the truth.

Tell your tale now…confess farmer…confess before you die and your soul remains in limbo forever, like the black man in the brown suit who walks the streets not knowing he is dead yet- only knowing that Grim betrayed him!

This entry was posted on November 12, 2011 at 1:56 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.