Reflections, Linda Dyanne Bolden [free ebook novel .txt] 📗

REFLECTIONS
THE LITTLE GIRL’S SHORT STORIES

LINDA DYANNE BOLDEN

“Reflections” Tiara reflects on her life, revealing the traumatic and tragic incidents that occurred
In the “Little Girls” short stories…


TABLE OF CONTENT

Dedication page
Acknowledgement page

Chapter one
Trouble don’t last always

Chapter two
The day she met her husband
1. Her childhood Memories
2. The little girl’s bloody nose

Chapter Three
Dating Tyrone
3. Unmasking the secrets
4. The little girl’s best friend
5. The little girl’s allurement with boyfriend

Chapter Four
The day of her wedding
6. The little girl’s Magical day
7. Knuckle breaker
8. Boiling Water

Chapter Five
What bird can’t fly?

Chapter Six
The devil is a lie
9. The devil is a lie continues part one
10. The devil is a lie part two
11. The devil is a lie part three
Chapter Seven

12. The little girl visit to Mr. Shelton Store
13. Running Numbers


Chapter Seven
Her Husband‘s infidelity
14. The little girl’s cancel Party
15. The 3 W Monsters

Dedicated: To Leslie David Riddick

AN ANGEL IN THE MIDST

As I’m guided by your encouragement and your Wisdom
You reminded me someday we‘d be in Gods heavenly Kingdom.

I had some days of darkness and I was gloomy at Night
You reminded me of a day that we‘ll see a glorious Light.

As I travel life journey, anxious to reach the Distance
You reached out your hand, offering support and Assistance.

As I look toward the divine heaven above,
God sent you with some inspirational Love.

A true spirit that I’ve acknowledge to EXIST
My truly Loving ANGEL THAT’S IN THE MIDST...

Written By: Linda Dyanne Bolden

I also dedicate my first book to my Aunt Verna Dean Taylor who taught me about pride & integrity. To my uncle Charles Bozeman, a true man of God.


Acknowledgments

First and foremost I give honor and thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for making it possible for me to complete my first book, without his blessings none of this would be in existence. I thank God for my two children, whom I am proud of, my daughter Telia Tianne Bolden, a recent graduated of East West University, with her Bachelor of Science Degree, the first in the family of her generation to obtain a Bachelor’s Degree. My son Tobias Bolden who loves his mom very much and is growing up into an environment that’s very grueling for the teenagers all over the world.

I thank God for my mother Annie Bolden, who reminded me that although we may stumble and fall along our way through life; yet she instill in me that with prayer, God is there to pick us up, landing us on our feet. Our beloved sister, Minister Faridah Love, who constantly reminds us each day that God, is good. I give thanks to my two sisters Mary Jones and Marjorie Bolden for their support during all of the days of my life, my other brothers and sister Barbara Bolden Richardson, Lavell Bolden, Earnest Bolden, Henry Bolden, Neal Bolden, and Willie Bolden. To my aunts and uncles for their support over the years, Jessie Andrews, Dessie Tillerson, Bobby Tillerson, Nora Rodgers, Geraldine Thomas, and Huey Jackson.

As I recently embarked on a new career at Rush University Medical Center, I would like to thank all my team in Transport Services for embracing me with a warm welcome, to Les Riddick, who taught me that “there is a true Director in all of us” Jacqueline Brewer, Debra Rouse, Stephenia Purnell, Muriell Nutall, Carlton Mc Quay, Efrain Villareal, Jill Washington, Phyllis, Irby, Caryn Robinson, and Pamela Ellis and to all of the transporters.

Thanks to my Girls, Debra Aldridge, Margaret Pitchford, and too little Mario Teague, who loves my little girls “Bloody Nose” and the “3W Monster Stories.” Thanks to all of the Food Services Staff at UCH for their support. To Annie Brown, Alice Williams, Louressa Montgomery, Alaina Entoe, Timika Nelson, (my cheerleader), Cynthia Jones, Carla James, my adopted niece, (be blessed) and Gloria Hughes, (lots of hugs). Florence Welch, who (encouraged the “little girl’s short stories”, To Catherine Ellis and Steven Ellis, who proclaimed “a year for a Change.” To UCH diet office staff that supported me and their enormous encouragements for the Little Girl’s Short Stories, Natalie Jones, Rose Arlington, Michelle Walton, Mary Montgomery, Gayle Alexander, Rosemary Burson, Tonita Harris, Shanell Watson, and Valerie Moore. I can’t forget about Rowena, the one person that reminded me that God always has “a ram in the bush.”

To my Pastor and my entire “Evening Star Family” who’s under the Leadership of Bishop Vesta L. Dixon, where “everybody is somebody”

To the Management Staff of Sodexo, who gave their support for my writings, Sandra Fleming, (my awesome cheerleader) Donna Anderson, (who I’m proud of for stepping up to the plate.) to Binta Leverette, (thanks for your encouragements and support) Erma Wilson, (a true Queen and a cheerful spirit), Mary Means, Mary Cannon, (my divine sister) Cedric Ivey, Jeffery Jasper, Grace Balogun, Gwenette Bush, and Yolonda Taylor.

Too all of my readers of “Reflections,” reflect on the idealism from the eyes of a black female perspective in the hood sharing life experiences through her Writings “The Little Girl’s Short Stories.”


Chapter one


Trouble don’t last always

Tiara Campbell was struggling all week to take care of her to do-list. She is a twenty- seven years old mother, with a two year old beautifully active little boy, recently separated from her husband after 4 years of marriage. She needed to take her son to the barber to get his hair cut, a task she dreaded because he never like the barber to cut his hair, crying and refusing to stay still. She was compelled to buy groceries because she was slowly running out of food to cook, declining on take out. She needed to drop off her dry cleaning and go to the bank.

Tiara was glad that she didn’t have to clean up her 2 bedroom town house or do laundry. During the weekday she refuse to let the laundry pile up on her so everyday when she came home from work, while she prepared dinner for herself and her son. She would multi-task her time at home with chores and her Insurance work, as an Insurance Broker Tiara always had some paper work to do. Sometimes she worked so hard obscuring into her work she barely had any time to feel miserable.

After the separation she lost any relevance to socializing with friends or family. She get up every morning to shower and dress herself and her son drop him off at her mom’s house and then travel to work. Fulfilling 9 or 10 hours days at work, pick up her son from her mom and go home, continuing the same routine daily. Whenever her loneliness and sadness set in, she drowned herself in tears. The heartache and pain from the anguish she felt after her husband’s indiscretion often left her feeling numb.

Time after time she questions herself, wondering what went wrong with her life, spiraling repetitively down this dark path. At night when she was unable to sleep she discovered herself reaching for a glass of wine or sleeping pills to go to sleep so she didn’t have to think so much about her despair.

At work her main focus was on the needs of her clients, not allowing any time to suppress her thoughts of her unsavory distressful marriage. At work she could transpire into whatever her exterior body or mind fabricated her into being. The well dress professional, with enormous pride and integrity, career oriented, well spoken, with zealousness and extreme determination. Divulging her exceptional beauty for all women of color; strutting her awesome tall slim figure for eyes to see, scrutinize with envy, dismissing her troubled mind, although her interior was throbbing with discontent.

At home she tries to heal her internal spirit,
working on that serene place, searching for the elation she knows she deserves. Everyday she strives on a new revelation, believing that God hasn’t absolutely forgotten her; and God in the end will see her through her heartache and adversities. By fulfilling the desires of her heart with that special man she’s been searching for her whole life, until 8 months ago she believed it was her husband Tyrone.

After she completed all of her chores that morning, by noon the sun was shinning so bright, and the weather was so pleasantly warm she decides to take Terry to the park to play. This was her week-end with Terry and she didn’t want to waste any opportunity to spend some quality time with him. Her husband wanted his son every other week-end. She never wanted Terry away from her for an entire week-end, but she agreed with his terms because she never wanted her son to grow up without his father in his life, she went through that emptiness, nonetheless she agreed and acknowledged her son needs dismissing her own egocentricity.

Tiara carefully pushed Terry in the swing watching his expressions and scenic smile; she thought how proud she was to be his mother, a precious gift she could have ever been blessed with, this little being shaped into a genetic copy of his father. His smile, lips, nose, skin color and his facial appearances were so uncannily like his father; Terry has his mother light brown eyes. She watched him laughed, while her mind mirrored on the day that Terry was born and how jubilant she felt when she first laid her eyes on him. Her heart skipped several beats; she couldn’t contain the joy in her heart, astonished that she could have such a healthy stunting baby boy, she was filled with enchantment, the tears formed in her eyes, caught up in the amazement that they could replicate someone so perfect. The day her son was born and the day of her wedding she felt cohesively complete.

After Tiara abandon her thoughts she took Terry out of the swing to let him run around the play ground area for awhile, constantly on his heel for fear that he would stumble and fall. Once she grabbed him up and put him on the horsy, mounded in the concrete, holding onto him firmly as she rocked him backward and forward. It was an enjoyable experience for him but he displayed some apprehension as she rocked the horsy.

By the time they made it back home they were both a little worn out. Tiara made them a quick meal, gave him a bath and put him down for the night. She smiled, happy about her decision to take him to the park. The time they had spent with each other was something they both needed. When Terry fell off to sleep she decided to run her a hot bubble bath filling it up to the top. She grabbed some of her tapes with all her old school jams, her jazz, staying clear of the blues tapes, since the blues music always made her feel sad and cry. She went to her cabinet reaching for a flute to pour herself a glass of red wine from the open bottle she had earlier in the week. She relinquished her thought of doing her paper work she need to have completed by Monday, shrugging her shoulders, indicating the work could wait until tomorrow after returning from Church.