K E N D R I C K
"KEN"
ThirtyIt was October when I met her. I'll always remember that day. The leaves had turned a bright orange color as Tennessee began to experience it's peak fall foliage. Fall was always beautiful here and the vibrant colors were a sight to behold. As I sat in Memphis Park admiring the scenery, I felt a light— so light that I almost went without acknowledging it— tap on my shoulder.
"Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you. I normally don't do this—" The sweet voice said just as I was turning around. When I did, I nearly lost my breath. She was beautiful— a pure masterpiece painted on flawless brown skin. She had the most intriguing set of eyes, wide but full of mystery, like she wanted to explore the world but she was afraid of what she might find. She radiated confidence, yet her aura was humble. I had to blink to see make sure it was real, to make sure she was real. Such effortless perfection could only exist in one's dream. That's what I told myself. But she was here. She was real.
"I did a lap around the park a while ago and I couldn't help but notice that you were completely tuned in to a book." She said with a smile, one I happily returned. "I wanted to know what you were reading—if you don't mind me asking of course. I just love a man who appreciates a good book"
"Well, I'm glad to know you love me." I said earning a wide smile from her. She loved to smile, I could tell. She held her head down and I could tell that she was slightly embarrassed by the way her cheeks turned red.
"Guess I kind of walked into that one."
I laughed as she sat down next to me on the park bench. I never took my eyes off of her as I reached to my side for the book I'd been reading earlier. She smiled as I handed it to her.
"Wayward Lives: Beautiful Experiments by Saidiya Hartman." She said out loud, turning it to the back so she could read the overview. In the meantime, I watched her intently. The fall wind occasionally blew her shoulder length hair forward and she'd push it out of her face every few minutes or so. As she read, her eyebrows creased— letting me know that this was more than likely the face she made when she was focused or in deep thought.
"Wow. I've never heard of this book before. It seems like it would be a good read." She said, bringing my analysis to a stand still.
"It's been a great read for me." I said cooly. "I love anything dealing with Black History."
"Particularly women's history, judging by the overview." She said looking at me with just as much curiosity. "Particularly black women."
"The black woman: so under appreciated and under valued—" I looked directly at her. "—like they aren't the ones who birthed this great nation. Snatched from their homeland and forced to create this infamous American Dream that didn't even include them or their black men. Sad to think about really. That's why I like to read up on those things though. Keeps my mind sharp." I lightly tapped my temple.
YOU ARE READING
BY THE BLOOD (URBAN)
General FictionBlood is thicker than water- a phrase many have heard and implemented in their everyday lives. For the Knighton brothers, it was more than just a phrase. For them it was a motto, their creed. It meant that nobody, friend or love interest, was above...