The Estelle Black Series: Touchdown Miami

“…But Avery everytime we have this conversation we come to the same conclusion…the nigga is crazy.” Avery was every frauds worst nightmare. She could read you like a book. Well every fraud except the ones who tried to persue her. She gets everyone else’s motives though. It’s funny how things work like that. You know what’s good enough for everyone but the one who matters the most. Yourself.  Avery invited me to Miami to “celebrate” her divorce. This is just what I need. Clear water, warm sand and new faces.

“Hell yeah he’s crazy! I mean look at me. I have it all together…had it all”…

Girl please…this is supposed to be a celebration not a pity party. He lost out not you. It’s okay to miss him. But do just that… miss the possibilities not the actuality.  In actuality he’s moved on with whats her name. You have to move on too… That’s what I wanted to say but in an effort to keep our friendship I insisted on “You still have it together, don’t worry about him!”  Empathy has never been one of my strong points. Friends or not.

This view is breathtaking. Thank God for heated pools and views of the ocean.  My every thought is floating with the waves. The breeze is light and drowns in my hair everytime it hits me. The sun  seems brighter here. Or maybe I just hate D.C. I want to love it there but every chance I get I leave it where it is and cheat on it with another city. A more beautiful one. Not physically beautiful but emotionally. In Miami I don’t have to drive or catch the metro. I don’t have a responsibility in the world here. My emotions are emotionless. Here I can just be. Although Avery’s bag of divorce emotions is starting to make me dislike her. I have to break the monotony.

“C’mon Av! We are in the most beautiful city on the East Coast. Let’s throw a party! You have this gorgeous home. Let’s put it to use.” That’s why I’m here right?!”

Hopefully her lawyer friends have some good intel about the “chain of causation” that ultimately led to the divorce. Not the typical the other woman was more freaky, beautiful with silky hair story Avery keeps trying to sell me. That would only inspire me to sleep.

“So Estelle, how long have you known the lovely Avery Jones?”

“Not too long maybe about 2 years now. I needed a lawyer to help me sort some things out with a few book deals.”

“Absolutely, I’m looking forward to your next piece of work.”

“Oh so you’re a fan of my work, Drew is it?”

“Drew it is and indeed I am. Avery raved about your writing at work so I had to see for myself. You’re gorgeous”

“Smart man. But am I gorgeous or was my work good?” He laughs. As much as I enjoyed our small talk. He just wasn’t my type. Too star struck…too short…too lawyer.

The next morning I woke up with a slight headache, I guess because of the back to back mango margaritas. Thankfully no new lawyer “friend” was lying next too me.

What’s next Miami? I kept waiting for something to happen. The party was a bore, but I have the whole week ahead of me to explore and make this trip meet my expectations.

Hey Av! Let’s hit the cuban spot. I’m hungry as hell.

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The Estelle Black Series: Estelle Takes Flight

It’s funny how life can leave you sleeping. Then suddenly some turn of events or person awakens you. All of a sudden you are in tune to everything around you. Every truth and every lie you can remember being told to you sticks to your gut like bad food that won’t settle. As I sit in my seat on this flight I think about these things. These lies and these truths. I mean what does it all really mean anyway. Do I even care anymore who lies to me?

“Another rum and coke please” the flight attendant is so damned happy to get me another. I would be happy too if my job was to fly all over the world in a tight little skirt and look pretty. Ugh. Her perfection is making me want to gag and befriend her at the very same time. “Thanks”. Instantaneously her eyes brighten up as she finally recognizes who I am. “You…you’re….you are Estelle Black!” “The incomparable” I reply with sarcasm and a fake smile. I bet she is now wondering why I’m not in first class.

Ever since I moved to D.C. I have not had any inspiration to write. My last essay on the riots in Baltimore caused nothing short of a “glad to see you’re down for the cause, as you should be, being black and all”…type responses. It’s disgusting what people consider art and worthy these days. Maybe I’ll post a picture of my naked ass on IG next week and then they’ll want to read my shit. This writer’s block shit is unbelievable.

I bet I would be inspired if I got some dick maybe..good dick. Nothing mediocre. But I don’t have time for the bull crap that comes along with it…”oh yeah by the way, I’m married….oh yeah I’m jobless ….oh damn were you looking for a relationship”…niggas kill me. Tell the truth and let me make my own decision as to if I still want to bone or not. They always have to be in control. You niggas didn’t control shit when they chained us threw us in boats and took our whole state of humanity from us. That’s why black men hate black women now. They hate themselves. Our “attitudes” need to shift. Ha! Maybe if our dominant covering would cover us we would have more to laugh about. The shit is fucked up for real.

“Good evening passengers. Please stay seated with your seatbelts on as we prepare for landing. The temperature in Miami is a cool 87 degrees tonight. Thank you for flying Coast Airlines and enjoy your stay”

I grab my carry-on from the overhead compartment and make a swift exit before the happy flight attendant decides to ask for a selfie. Clean getaway. Or so I think.

Miami is so beautiful and full of adventure. I have to find some inspiration here… yes gorgeous Miami.