POETRY: THE NOVEL ****AMAZON REVIEW**** I need to first start this off by saying that I am NOT a book reader. However I love this book. Im not finished with it yet but I cant seem to put it down! Im more of a film person and I can definitely see this as a movie. The writing is so descriptive I see everything the author is talking about. This is an awesome story and would make a great college gift for someone entering their freshman year. Reading this made me feel like an undergrad again. - Jakia Johnson --------- New excerpt from POETRY: The Novel 🔥 -First day at work- The compassion I once had for the poor had begun to leave me. He looked at me, reached into the pocket of his dingy sweatpants and pulled out a few crumpled dollars. Out of the crumpled mess of dollars, I saw a twenty-dollar bill. After that, I knew he could afford something. I told him that all I had was ounces or better. He looked to the left, towards the street then he looked behind him like he was looking for someone to give him approval to buy from me. In the street, a car screeched to a halt to avoid smashing into another vehicle. My attention went towards the scene of the near accident. One of the men rolled his window down and began yelling at the driver of the other car. “What is wrong wit’ you! Drive yo’ damn car! The light is green!” We were in the hood, so I expected gunshots to follow. To my surprise, both of the cars just sped off. I turned back around just in time to see the crackhead holding a blade about as long as an ink pen, a switchblade. The silver of the blade sparkled like a diamond under the streetlight. My eyes widened, like I was trying to see the whole world at once. He had a look on his face that blamed me for his addiction. The cold Milwaukee air filled my lungs as I inhaled like I was taking my final breaths. I took a few more steps back and my hands shook as I reached for my waist to protect myself. I pulled out my .22 and cocked it; the crackhead froze in his tracks, waiting for me to fire. My heart was beating in my throat. After I hesitated to fire, the crackhead smiled the way a child molester would on a playground full of children. I backed away on wobbly legs. The gun in my hand became heavier by the second. I wasn’t ready to do it. My heart was racing and my breathing intensified. Everything around me seemed to slow down. I stepped back slowly and he stepped forward faster; he knew I wouldn’t pull the trigger. He stepped toward me with his blade out, ready to make contact. Cars zoomed past, pretending like they noticed nothing. The crackhead and I were the only two people who occupied the sidewalk, and in my mind, we were the only two people on earth. We slowly moved away from the streetlight and into the darkness of the night. I made a decision, squeezing the gun’s trigger, but nothing happened. I panicked as the crackhead walked faster. We danced together for about ten feet until I tripped backwards over an uneven part of the sidewalk. The weight of my gun smashed two of my fingers into the ground during the impact. I was on the cement looking up at the crackhead. He was less than two feet away from me. The knife shifted its position in his hand; now, it was pointing down, ready to tear through my flesh. The only things that lit our scene were the headlights from the passing cars, sporadically reflecting off of the switchblade. I caught glimpses of his face at half-second intervals; addiction filled his eyes. I looked at my gun where it lay, a few inches away from my hand. I reached for the pistol again, but the crackhead put the blade to my throat. “You pick that gun up, I’ma slit yo’ throat from ear to ear.” The stench from his breath was unbearable. I didn’t move. He reached towards the gun, saying, “You shoulda killed me when you had the chance, young blood.” He began to search my pockets for money as he held the gun towards my head. I was frozen by fear, wondering if Dro saw what was going on. Seconds later, I felt the presence of two bodies behind me. The crackhead looked up and away from me. The same fear I had, seconds earlier was on his face. One shot was fired. The crackhead’s body hit the ground hard, like a pillowcase full of bricks. -------- 💥If you want to be added to the e-mailing list for free giveaways and more, leave your e-mail address in the comments section💥 WATCH THE OFFICIAL TRAILER HERE!!! youtu.be/oSmp6v4SiHQ
Posted on: Fri, 09 Jan 2015 15:46:22 +0000
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