It’s done. His name is now the point of contact for one of my two investment accounts. It was through calamity and default. He’s my beneficiary through the sheer spinning of the wheel of fortune. It is not a matter of the amount, but a matter of sadness and happenstance that my kin can no longer reap any fruit from my small yet diligent hands because of aggression, impatience and greed.

He doesn’t have to do a thing. My step son will be the beneficiary of the other account, my husband that of my joint and checking, and it is done. It is with a weary heart pumping through the treachery of loneliness, as this life is not for everyone – the life of long quiet nights functioning as an entrepreneur, expanding my wealth and wingspan.

Do not play chess, or gamble with me by arriving with a sour temperament because everyone is now outside of the trust. No one receives royalties, or old journals that could be published after I am gone except for the tried and true. He fights for me and professes his love when I am not around, therefore, I have very little knowledge of how much he truly loves me, but I have an idea, and an acute intuition.

A small circle. Brown skin, now he’s my next of kin because my blood could not learn how to not boil, not my blood, my flesh and blood. So, the one with whom I share my flesh has gotten luckier than old ex-friends professed we both were to have found one another.

Good on him. Very well.