PROSPERITY

Black Cards and Red Bottoms

Thomas walks the two miles it takes to get to his private gym every morning before work.

The views of the palm trees swaying in the early morning winds feed his mood.

Last week he stopped taking his medicine for the dark thoughts twisting through his mind.

The therapist thought she was so bright—diagnosing him as serotonin deficient.

Depression wouldn’t be his calling card like the rest of his whacked-out family.

He had made it in life, and nothing was going to take him down the rabbit hole—again.

Thomas knew that early morning spent basking in the Miami sun was all he would need to push his happy buttons.

He would show that know-it quack doc.

Where was she last September when he met Anna?

That sweet succubus took Thomas for all that he was worth, leaving him to pick up the fallen pieces of his manhood.

The six million dollar inheritance his parents left him filled the shelves of her walk-in closet.

He purchased all Gucci and Chanel to feel the mist from her skin whenever she allowed him to touch.

For her soft Persian lips, his black card was limitless.

She pranced like a doe whenever he asked her to slip on her Louboutins and model for him.

“I want the Cinderella slippers, baby.”

And just like that, he got her anything she ever wanted.

She hopped on the following boss’s cock as soon as his bank account hit zero.

The rain poured down heavy on his Corvette as he sat there wondering if he wanted her to stay or leave.

The text she sent him to say that it was over and not to bother contacting her hit him by surprise.

He felt everyone’s eyes on him in the boardroom as he stood in silence that morning.

Something told him to wait before reaching for his vibrating cell, but he couldn’t help it.

When lunchtime rolled around, his instincts raced back to his apartment.

He was willing to fall to his knees and beg for Anna to stay.

A little more patience is all he needed from her.

The deal he stood to close would net him four million, and they could keep the luxurious lifestyle they both loved.

He was seeing her walk with such urgency to the waiting car.

“Where are you going, Anna?”

Her Louis Vuitton luggage he had surprised her with for her twenty-sixth birthday sat open on their bed.

Filled to the brim with all ten pairs of red bottom heels, he had just got her on their trip to Paris last month.

He couldn’t remember how her lifeless body ended up in his arms.

Those Bambi’s eyes stared up at him as he released the grip around her neck.

“I love her so much, and she was leaving me after everything I did for her.”

He sobbed into the phone as the 911 operator asked what his emergency was?

NM

What About Me?

“Let’s gather around everyone. I have something to say about this special little lady here,” Uncle Jammie says, lifting his glass of whiskey. “Congratulations to my niece on her acceptance into Princeton University.”

The room exploded with clapping and shouting so loud it pierced her eardrums.

“They need some more color in those halls,” my mother screamed from across the room. “Here’s to the next Black judge in this family.”

Victoria could feel the jealousy bubble in her stomach and rise to her throat as she watched everyone toast her sister’s never-ending accomplishments.

Seeing her uncle plant a kiss on her sister’s cheek gave her the sudden urge to puke right there in front of everybody.

She loved her twin sister Vanity dearly, but she was tired of never getting noticed like her.

Sure, her grades could use a little help but averaging a 3.5 GPA was nothing to sneeze at.

“Why can’t you get straight A’s like your sister?” her mother always asked her this right in front of her sister.

“I am not Vanity, mom,” the thought of having to be like her perfect sister brought tears to her eyes. “Why can’t you see that?”

Envy overpowered the jealousy the moment she lured her sister to Jacob’s house party.

Victoria saw the way her sister smiled whenever Jacob called.

“Oh, Jacob!” every Friday evening, the moans and cries of passion rang out from her sister’s room.

Wishing it was her, Victoria would listen, placing her ears against the wall while caressing her clitoris.

Jacob was so fine.

If only she had met him before her sister—she would be the one moaning his name.

Vanity always got the best of everything; even as a little girl, she got the best toys and dresses.

Victoria always got whatever was left behind.

She was sick of this.

Her sister going off to study law at Princeton would mean she’d be left behind trying to make it like every other black sheep of the family.

Jacob’s house party was the perfect time to convince her sister to stay.

“No, I don’t want to stay here, sis, and you know that,” Vanity chuckled while sipping a half-empty bottle of Whiteclaw.

“But I don’t want you to go and leave me behind,” Victoria grabbed the now empty can from her sister and threw it against the wall. “What the hell is your problem, Vanity?”

She didn’t expect to push her sister down the flight of stairs—it just happened.

The room spun as Victoria grabbed a fist full of her sister’s hair.

The blood coming from her sister’s head filled the growing dent in the wall.

“STOP!” she could hear Jacob yelling as he tried pulling Victoria off of her sister’s stiff body, but the building rage overpowered him. “You’re killing her.”

“She just kept screaming ‘what about me?’ over and over again.” Jacob looked so yummy sitting up there on the witness stand in his suit and tie.

The look of hatred he shot her way didn’t faze Victoria at all.

It was finally her time.

NM

Office Space

"I am looking forward to the promotion we spoke about earlier this year, boss."

The sweat dripped between my palms as I clasped them together -wondering why I just said that out loud.

It had been three months since I met with Sherie.

Out to prove that she was more than a trust fund baby, Sherie took over the role as CEO of the firm once her father retired.

She has no clue how to run a law firm.

I know that I have what it takes to take us to the top.

I need the opportunity to prove it.

Getting that seat at the table would be the big fuck you to my parents.

My big brother wouldn't be the only top lawyer in our family.

"Oh yes, Malika. I will schedule that promotions meeting soon," she forced a smile across her face as usual. "Thanks for being patient with me."

The clock struck five, and still no new entries on my employee calendars.

I felt the carpet’s heat rising as I stormed down the plush halls that house the partner’s offices.

My rage rose from the pit of my belly to the back of my throat.

How dare this smug bitch lie to me again.

Turning the doorknob to peer inside of my boss’s office I noticed a stack of papers lying across her desk.

‘Malika’s Termination Request’ sat in big, bold letters across the front page.

Flipping through frantically statements like ‘a nuisance,’ ‘overbearing,’ and ‘lazy worker’ began each section as to why I should be let go.

The shuffling from behind stopped me in my tracks.

“What are you doing Malika?” It was Sherie. “Why are you going through my desk?”

My hands began to tremble as I reached for her propeller metal mail opener.

Plunging deep into her neck I felt an orgasmic relief.

Releasing the anxiety from all of the weeks leading up to now sent us both crashing to the floor.

As I listened to her last gurgles, I could hear the other partners pack up and leave without saying goodbye.

How would I get the blood out of her Karastan carpet before sunrise?

NM