'Jules' mind went back under the moonlight and night air of Baldwin's Fine Arts Center Garden, where intense anger shifted into an intimate moment of curiosity with a blow of the wind.
Maybe two flames weren't supposed to be that close when raging...
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"Life without dreaming is a life without meaning."
— Wale
THE skinny trees outside swayed to the wind's chilling embrace, like hips. Marmalade and burgundy leaves outnumbered the remains of a few green soldiers trying their best to stand their ground. The sun sat, tucked between two clouds as Raheem walked down the empty street to Blake's Boxing.
It was early, but he decided that it had been too long since he'd paid Blake a visit while taking some hooks into a punching bag. The smell of fabuloso lingered past his nose while Kid Cudi played lightly within the speakers that hung on each end of the main entrance.
He went over to the desk to search for Blake, but was only met with a few scattered papers on the table top, a chair pushed a few inches back, and a set of keys.
"Blake?" Raheem called out while dropping his bag at the front. He wandered a few steps further to Blake's storage room in the back.
"Back here Rah, bring those hands with you -- I need some help lifting some of these boxes."
After a few more steps, Raheem came to see the red door of the supply room slightly opened.
Blake was bent over a few cardboard boxes, lifting them on a shelf rack to hold excess and new materials.
"You just gonna' stand there like a tree boy, or make like some leaves and move?"
Raheem bent over beside Blake, taking the boxes filled with gloves and placing them on the shelf behind them.
"How have you been Blake?"
"How have I been? Boy I haven't seen you in a few days. Was gonna' send my puppies to come searching for you if another day went by."
Raheem gave him a smile while lifting another box.
"I've been okay, just going through some things and taking them one day at a time -- you know?"
They placed a few more boxes on the shelf. Rah fished through one of them, taking a pair of honey colored gloves out and inspecting them.
"These are nice, Mrs. Marionne picked these off the catalog?" Raheem held the gloves up to his head and titled them to the side.
"Yeah, you should see the living room. She already has it planned out for the fall while setting aside the winter decor. I swear it looks like a scarecrow threw up on our front porch. I told Marionne to lay low on all that stuff this year, and what does she do? Ignores the hell out of me and shows me who's really in charge."
"Last year was fly, although that singing scarecrow in the yard did freak me out when I came over. She got rid of it yet?" Raheem questioned with a chuckle.
