DeJanae Faison
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Dear Tony Sanchez
“Dear Tony Sanchez, I was brought up never to wish harm or evil on anyone Mr. Sanchez. But you sir, are the devil. We have never been late on a single bill post-pandemic. Yet every day except Sundays, your bill collectors pack our mailboxes to the brim, and every fortnight you come by demanding the money we simply do not have. Even coming by my husband’s second job insisting to be paid. That is where the line has been drawn.Mr. Sanchez, we are not hiding anything from you. With the pandemic, we have been forced to quarantine which means we can no longer sell our dairy products at the farmer’s markets and small mom and pop shops. That was our main source of income. We can sell a few items to nearby homes but that is barely enough to keep food on the table let alone pay our rent towards you. With shops closed we have no way of purchasing our containers for the milk, we are solely relying on the profits made from selling cheese. Though we promise the moment things pick back up again we will give you your money. But for now, the harassment has to come to an end. If we were in any other predicament in our control, I would understand your determination on getting payment. You are trying to make a living just as we are. But you have several sorces of income under your belt and we only have the one which is already on it’s last leg. As we, like the rest of the country, are in financial hardships we just cannot control. Find it in your heart for some empathy and respect ~Myla Johnson “
By DeJanae Faison5 years ago in Criminal
Oh, Evan...
In the old city of Axilla, street vendors line the tight streets, the smell of their frying food filling the air with a thin haze, peasants chattering as they sieve their way through the crowds. From the tavern, a blonde-haired man with fair skin and blue eyes stepped out backwards while vividly telling a tale of his head getting stuck in a chamber pot. His voice husky, and despite his wool clothes itching his skin and his leather shoes two sizes too big, Evan's smile was larger than life. Two men, Clyde and Davis, followed him, hunched over one another hysterically laughing till their cheeks soaked with tears and their chests tightened from amusement. As he told his tale, Evan swung his arms out. His arm meeting a rushing man's throat with a powerful wallop. The man was sent flying right on his back, and while holding his throat he let out an agonized groan. Three knights parting through the crowds with great urgency, hollering "GET OUT THE WAY! STOP HIM!". They came to a stop. All heads angled down to the man in the dirt, then to Evan who stood stunned, arms still held outward.
By DeJanae Faison5 years ago in Criminal
