The Sequel to Burns&Bruises
Embark on a poignant journey with Maleek Montique, once a baby now a man shaped by a traumatic past. Thirteen book years post the Burns & Bruises saga, witness the evolution of the once tiny baby into a formidable figure...
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Monday, August 4th 8:21 am 📍Miami, Florida🇺🇸
𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅
The dampened floor mop skims against the glossy tiles wiping away the unpleasant scent of puke variegated with mucus.
A queasy sensation in my gut added with a bitter taste of puke heavy on my tongue.
Leaning against the mop, I gag unable to complete the task at hand.
My eyes sweep over the half-closed suitcase before flickering to the clock middled in the room.
I have about an hour to get to the airport so I can catch my flight.
And with the way my strength fluctuates, It's going to be a hard flight back home.
Coaching myself back to a straighter back and rested stomach. I crack a smug, flittering my eyes back and forth between the closet and the suitcase.
Lips puckered, I push the air out of my lungs and through my mouth, taking a step and hissing each time pressure is placed on my bad knee.
That insufferable pain has come again, this time 100 times more than its first visit.
Gripping the leg of the bed, I lower myself onto my knees pulling the suitcase towards me.
With a flick to the cover, it flips open revealing half of what I have laid out to be packed.
Still have shirts, soap, cologne, Toiletries jewellery etc fi pack.
And all now mi no put in the suit weh mi aguh wear a Smith funeral.
I swallow at the thought.
A hand pressed to my throbbing head at the acceptance that Smith is no longer here.
Jah Jah
Alright mi need fi finish
Knees gliding across the shiny white porcelain tiles, I move around grabbing the rest of what I need at arm's length.
With the tailored and dry-cleaned suit in my hands, I reposition a few things in the suitcase forcing them to be smashed against each other so that I'll have space for the suit.
