We are given certain things in life, things we cannot change, just like cards we are dealt. The color of our skin, the first language we learn, who our parents are and what trauma do they carry. Some of these things blessings. Others? Not so much.
Though beginnings can never be changed, bad ones can be compensated for. They can be overcome. A woman with scars is still a woman. My fate is what I was given at the beginning of my life, and my destiny is where I find it.
She was grateful when, at 6:40 p.m., a sort of peace — a gauzy cloak of comfort— floated down from the the ceiling, covering her head and shoulders. Her cat purred at her side and the golden hour had finally arrived. Meanwhile, the neighborhood teenagers, who jammed hard, pulsed and pounded three houses down. The faraway beat grew irritating… and then for a moment she couldn’t tell the difference between the drummer and her heartbeat.
Boy, did she know how to read between the lines! And upside down, and in a mirror, and in the dark. She knew how to read in Braille, in cuneiform, in emojis. She could read between the lines, and hear the unspoken secrets of many people. Not all, thanks be to god.
Goddess. There is only one woman, she heard in her head. There is only ONE WOMAN. One universal truth. Many fractured mirror truths. Everyone was cracked, somewhere.
Leslie Gaines is a criminal, a con man and an artistic failure. He stole business cash & assets from me personally, to the tune of six figures. Yes: six figures.
He has left a trail of many other defrauded partners behind him. I pity anyone who trusts him with their priceless time, credit rating, camera equipment, or vehicles.
In addition to those crimes, he invaded my home and physically assaulted me. He is currently hiding out in Montana, plotting his next big con job. Warning: do not ever, under any circumstances, believe one word this man utters.
He is a pathological liar. He sheds crocodile tears. He is a bad actor. He is a bad “filmmaker. He is a hypocrite, a racist, and a descendant of General Gaines, one of the foremost murderers of native Americans in this country’s history.
He, himself, is quite literally cursed by the Seminole and the Miccosuccee tribes — they have judgments against him for millions: he will never be able to own property in his own name as long as he lives.
I also believe he is suffering from early dementia. Or, just as likely, he has just rotted his brain with too much drinking & drugging.
He abuses women, uses & emotionally abuses everyone he meets, and continues to steal & abuse me emotionally by using my deceased brother’s name as a credit on his illegally obtained footage!
I pray that he doesn’t harm anyone else. Forewarned is forearmed.
We met Jesus at his gate. My little daughter was so excited she ran up to him & clung to his legs. He put her little feet on top of his big feet & continued to walk forward wheeling his luggage, while she squealed like a parrot.
His suitcase was brand-new & shiny, and it had a piece of purple duct tape on it — JHC, his initials. His carryon bag looked like it had been trampled upon by a multitude. Jesus looked… tired & dusty.
Not what I expected. Always, always, always use waterproof mascara. One never knows when one might find it necessary to cry.
He couldn’t believe what people were doing with his name. The worst kind of identity theft, he called it. Jesus knew swear words that hadn’t even been written yet.
He had a work ethic nobody could fathom. But superhuman, no. He functioned mainly on coffee and chocolate and weed, just like the rest of us.
Kimberly Townsend Palmer 