𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒.
"There's people out there who would literally turn they whole life to the side and forget all of their morals just to say they got some money in they pocket and made a way out." - Marquis...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
OCTOBER - 2ND WEEK
A week later and I was in the 'barber shop' for the usual: a fade and a line-up. Maurice's cousin scheduled my first court-case to lessen my sentence and fully eradicate the option of killing a nigga and i'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous as fuck. My bullshitin' ass lawyer I was paying damn near 10k a month didn't even bust a grape compared to what Maurice cousin was doing for me and all I could do was thank god. Literally, all I could do was thank god.
I walked through the curtains to just see Sharpz station empty and from the looks of it it looks like it ain't been touched in about a week or so.
"Ayo, man," I called out to Sharpz who was sitting in his usual spot swirling a toothpick around and around as he flipped through some philosophy book he had his hands on the past few times I came through. I think it was about Plato or some shit.
Whatever passes the time, I guess and them niggas will have you pondering on some shit for some weeks. It ain't for me.
"Where Sharpz? Ain't he usually here at this time?" I was rubbing my head feeling self-conscious about my hair all of sudden and thinking to myself if I have to go to the dominican barber shop across the hall from me and Papi bunk and lord knows I aint want to hear all that Dumtssdum Shit early in the morning.
"Shit ion know, " Bullet shrugged as he turned the page. His face scrunched up as he read a few lines from the book in his hand, turning the toothpick around and around. "I think he in his cell, but I wouldn't go there right na," silently he read the words back one more time before sucking his teeth and turning the book face down. Shuffling in his jumper shirt pocket, he fished out the same ole cards he had to play another game of solitare.
He was in here for 40 years so I guess he develped a routine or some shit.
"Why not? I mean, shit, what happened for him to miss comissary money like that?"
Laying out the aces, kings and queens, Bullet looked up at me for a quick second before shaking his head, smiling to himself like I missed the joke.
"Wassup man?" I asked, getting a little aggravated with the shit.
"His babymoms got killed last week. Nigga full on snapped when he heard the news and he been in his cell since then. From what the streets saying, his bm baby gon' be tossed in foster care since her mama had a heart attack and in the hospital herself."
My eyes widened and my mind automatically went to the conversations he used to have with Bullet as I sat in the chair. I was thinking about all the times Bullet clowed Sharpz for his BM hoeing herself after stealing her from that nigga Cut and somethin' about that wasn't sitting right especially considering the shit I heard from Toni.
"You think that nigga Cut got something to do with it?" I crossed my arms as I leaned against the wall waiting for Bullet reply. Truthfully I think by the way Bullet slowed down shuffling the cards it was on his mind too, but I guess he felt me watching him 'cause he shuffled the cards even faster.
