Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
Last time I popped in, we were going through a global pandemic. Today, it looks like we're going through a revolution.
To put things simply for you all on why I've been away...
I live in Minneapolis MN.
There is so much I wish to speak on, but I feel like I've got enough pages to fill a book. Hell, books. If I were to ask the black community and other people of color if the could say the same, I'm positive that they would assure me they could. That being said, I've been brainstorming on just how I could openly express this with you all.
Thank you to all the viewers who've still supported me, and to all the new readers who have stumbled upon my work during quarantine. Thank you for giving my writing a chance. I love each and everyone one of you 💞.
Thank you to everyone who has also checked in on me. I'll be taking a day to reply to every message. My mental health has taken a serious fucking hit that's for sure, but it will never be something I can't rebuild from. Please stay healthy, stay safe, but do not remain idle during times of injustice... speak up. Silence is an action.
Dante
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When I woke up the next morning, I knew immediately from the throbbing that my nose had gotten worse. When my fingers snaked up through the fluffed duvet comforter to give it a feel, I hissed in pain. It felt like the swelling had gone up drastically, resulting in a nose I could no longer recognize.
Sleeping on the floor was about as comfortable as you could imagine. I woke up to discomfort all morning, but I did my best to push it aside. Furniture would have to come later, when I found the time and the money. For now, I had the essentials to get me started and get me working. I wouldn't let New York's less than ideal welcome get me down.
Once I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, however, all that gun-ho energy quickly went down the fucking drain.
My nose looked like it had been smashed in by the front end of a train. It was bruised and swollen, taking up the majority of my face. I tried to place the cold tequila bottle on my nose the previous night, but the bottle hurt when it was pressed against the fragile skin. It also put liquor in my direct line of sight which only resulted in me finishing said bottle.
I stripped myself clean of the boxers I had slept in, and got to work on making myself presentable for work. There wasn't much I could do about this fucked up nose, but there was something I could do about this hair.
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"What the absolute- what in the fuck-" Kassie whispered to herself in absolute horror as soon as I made it to the back room. "Your face looks terrible, Dante. Like seriously fucking terrible."
