​Chapter 9 Part 3  

(Note: I had to change the aunt name from Keyshia to Marley.  I realized I already use the name early.) 

"That messed is old. The only person who brings it up is the kids grandmother." I didn't take a bit of the money; my sister had gotten from Hefty. They will be coming after the grandmother for the money."  

Brice stomach turned queasy, looking over at Devon. "We shouldn't be discussing in front of the child." 

Devon sat down on the floor with the trucks to examine each one for damage. "Be careful next time." He looked up at the both of them. "You could have scratched one." 

Aunt Markley turned in his direction. "Keep them off the floor." 

Do you know who runs the operation?" Brice whispered. 

"The JLC's, they killed my sister off looking for the money he stole for Zetta. to set up their operation. You know the drug dealer who killed a while back." She grimaced at Brice. "In the news." 

"That stabbed didn't teach you to keep out other people business did it?" Markley closed the door back. 

 Brice left the porch and saw Constance standing across the street. He continued down his side of the street. She ran across the street then entered his house.  

"What do you want?" Brice asked after he stormed into his home. Constance sat on the upstairs landing.   

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Chapter 9 Part 2  
"Make another threat like that I'll call the cops on you," Brice said. She spat in his yard and stomped away backwards down the street.  
Hefty with that much money, Brice thought. he waited until the woman had fade out of his view. then he went down the street to where his boys were living with a neighbor woman who would come in help them clean and cook. She got them off to school every morning. Brice knew this when he jogged pass the home. The young man who was now in elementary waved when he would pass. Brice walked down to the house then he tapped the front door. He heard a rumbled through the hallway. She was about in her early twenties and medium built with cinnamon. The kind of ladies Brice like to look at. If he was looking which he hadn't been for a while since him Yasmine were together steadily. The woman slipped on two toys before falling into the door.  
"Devon!" she said, pulling the door open.  
"Hi, I'm-"  
"Brice the one who killed Hefty my daddy," the young boy said.   
"I'm Keyshia the kids aunt and don't say another word boy."  
Brice back away from her hand when she extended it. She grinned and advance her hand again. She had no ill will like the grandmother that was a good sign. Brice shook her hand back.  
"You saved the lives of my four nephews. Hefty was no good but I wouldn't tell the kids that."   
"Where's their mother?" Brice asked looking around the neighborhood to see anybody approaching. Devon picked up his two toy dump trucks.  ​

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Cut the Flow Chapter 9 Part 1  

"What is he?"  

"Finished your food and take a lay down," she said walking into the kitchen mumbling incoherent words. She never explained the difference, Brice thought it was to be understood the division in the black race. He counted the coins in his pocket and the bills. He had enough to make it back home within the hour. He got cab phone number out the yellow pages and left without saying goodbye. Brice made it back to his home. He thought he could crawled through the back window remembering he gave his key to Uncle Jace. After entering through the window, he had sunken into the cushion on his sofa. He nodded for a minute realizing he needed to wake up and stay woke until Yasmine arrived home. His doorbell rang. Brice peeked out the window and saw middle-aged woman with her hair pin behind her head. She looked familiar. He cracked the door open.   

"Yes, may I help you?"  

"Give me the $1500 you owe us," the man yelled behind her.  

"What are you talking about?" Brice widen the door.  

"You killed my son, didn't you?" She asked. "He made at least 1500 a day and I need it. 

"He's been dead for two years and first year he was comatose," Brice said. "You now come up to me and tell me that I owe you money."  

"Hold up colored I was upset. My crack house got burn down by you righteous people. I've lost my income. I've been living off Hefty two million he had stashed."  

No way that colored had that stored Brice thought he must have stolen it."Get off my porch."  

"I'll be back and burn your crib down."  

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The next two page in Chapter 9, I have edited. Now I will enter the corrections. This may take a couple of days.
And I am also rereading One Death at a Time. I am on the last questionnaire about the novel. The questions are about the the plot and subplots. After this, the editor and I will work on the chapters. I want this to lead to the final draft.

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Chapter 8 Part 5 

Uncle Jace left without talking to his sister. He was like that when it came to him losing money. The world could burn he would still make it to work. Brice realized they were fighting again. His mother helped him to the dining room. A sliced of meatloaf and mashed potatoes was on the plate with thick gray covering them on the plate.  

"I told you I don't like gray on my mash potatoes," Brice said separating the meat from the mash. He scrapped the gravy off the mash then he pushed the plate to the side.   

"Go head and eat the food Brice," his mother said. She pushed the plate back after cleaning his fingerprints off the edges.   

"Brice, why can't you eat what I give you and do what I say?"o his mother asked throwing the towel on the table. "Coloreds got you believing you can save them but you can't." To her the conversation was over and she won. Brice wasn't going  to let it end.   

"Mama, you married a man is black as midnight and you use the word colored."  

"Your father's not a colored."  

"What is he?"  

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I have missed a year of entries. I do apology. I have been working on developing Frelisa Fabulous online through different social media. Then I have relocated. My health had a relapse few months back. I look at the website and could not realize how time has disappear on me. I will work on posting the rest of  Cut the Flow First Draft.

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​Chapter 8 Part 3
He looked straight out of an IBM brochure everything he wore had been custom made. He introduced himself as Elliot Yorkshire. Explaining how department stores in Southfield contribute great support to the area, this mouth piece continued his speech how an undesirable person should find another venue.
"Mr. Frankel, Southfield is a safe city that keeps the unsavory activities from other areas away from the good people who live here," Mr. Yorkshire said. "It's best for you keep your personal troubles where you come from."
Nachine did bang him in the head, Brice thought. There had to be surveillance cameras. Then why the cover up. They could have called the police and arrest Nachine. How could he say you were worried about the safety of its citizen when the manager didn't report to police Nachine Bautista hit him in the head?
Yorkshire said, pulling the curtains to the room open. Brice moved up on the bed. He turned on his side, pushing the button for the nurse. "Well I leave you to get well." Mr. Yorkshire walked out, closing the door quiet.
"What can I tell Yasmine, Brice thought.
The nurse came in turn off the nurse button then she checked his equipment. "Nothing in here is beeping," She snatched up his chart. "We have sicker patient then you. Use your button wisely."
"I need another blanket and glass of ice water for aspirin that was given to me earlier."
"Did you hear what I just said?" Nurse asked hooking the chart back in its place. "You want a blanket to keep you warm and icy water that would make you cold. And you were not given an aspirin, it was not list on the chart."
"Take your nasty attitude get me water and blanket," Brice said. "What hospital I'm at anyway?"
"Providence," the nurse said leaving the room. Another nurse returned with the blanket, spreading it over him.
"I'm sorry for any inconvenience Mr. Frankel," She took his pitcher into the hallway. She returned with ice and water jiggling inside it. She put it on his tray.

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Cut the Flow Chapter 8 Part 1
​"You get back to selling and to hustling up some girls to prostitute." Nachine had a lot of people to supply. "We'll do some after parties for the basketball team." 
Nachine and Vapor celebrated with some whiskey and chips along with their sandwiches. . Vapor continue to sleep off his liquor when she washed up in the sink the next morning. Afterward, she made a sandwich to go. She left to hike back up the  street and caught the bus to work. She was late but didn't care. Dwayne was setting up the front counter.
"You're late and your girl Rochelle called off," Dwayne said. "It's us three, Qadira, you and me."
Nachine stepped back toward the door. Qadira, the girl who lived across the street with her flaky mother, might recognize her and call the police. She should have worn her wig. Nachine went into the restroom and stylish hair with large bangs on her forehead. Exiting the restrooms, she searched the street to see if there were any cops outside.
"We're about to open," the young girl voice shout through the restaurant.. "I need you count your drawer down, Dwayne." Nachine approached the counter where Dwayne stood then she counted the second cash drawer,  And she counted it. 
Qadira watched her.
"You're never broke Mrs. Bautista," Qadira said grabbing for some cup sleeves to stack. 
"What you want Qadira," Nachine asked, "money to keep your daddy hid out?"
"My dad is at home," Qadira said. "The police just stopped looking for him."
"They have."
"Mrs. Bautista, I want to work for you and not go to jail."
"Even, I went to jail," Nachine said organizing the money to all go the same way.
"No the good drug dealers or suppliers that I've been reading about don't get caught." ​

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