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AFRICAN AMERICAN PROSE Gray-Eyes Below is an excerpt from Gray-Eyes, one of the many stories from Passion: In the Nubian Diaspora, a book of erotic romance short stories. PART ONE It was a night like many others of the season. The weather was warm but rainy, with a wind that occasionally howled and slammed raindrops noisily against windows. Sheriff Mirinda Durham sat on an old mahogany chair behind a large, somewhat worn, mahogany desk in the front office of the newly renovated jailhouse. Mirinda was mostly of African ancestry, her parents had both been runaway slaves who met in the West. She was a tall, shapely, chocolate-brown woman, 24 years old, with hair that hung down to her waist in a thick bushy braid. She had an incredibly beautiful face displaying large dark brown eyes and luscious full lips. She wore a black, high-collar man's shirt and a pair of dark brown leather pants. She also wore a dark brown leather vest, upon which was pinned her sheriff's badge, and, wore a pair of newly purchased brown leather cowboy boots. Her gunbelt and gun were strapped to her waist, her supply of bullets readily attached to the side of the belt. She was elected sheriff simply because she was the fastest gun in the town of Sanctuary Meadow. It was so named because it was an all African-American and Native-American town where both groups intermingled and lived in peace with each other. The town was quite prosperous and had seen the birth of multiple businesses. The standard of living was high, driven by both business and spirituality. And, there was a high-class social environment which was based on African and Native cultures. The year was 1875, Sanctuary Meadow was located in a sparsely populated mid-western state. It was the end of Spring and the warmer weather was making some townspeople restless for action, a malady which was presenting itself in the more active saloon activity and the spur of the moment fights. There were no prisoners in the jail right now and the night had been very quiet, but Mirinda feared it was the 'quiet before the storm'. Momentarily, a young boy came bursting through the heavy jailhouse door. '' Sheriff! Sheriff! There's a dead body in the blacksmith's barn!'' the boy shouted. The boy was Thomas, jr., the son of the bank teller, Thomas G. Keys. He was a good-looking boy, about 12 years old. He had almond colored skin and slightly curly black hair. He obviously had some kind of racial mix in his genes, as did Mirinda, but in both cases, it was too far back for anyone to have knowledge of the particulars. Mirinda jumped-up from her chair and quickly followed the boy to the barn. She usually liked to be right with her predictions, but this time, she wished her 'quiet before the storm' theory had been incorrect... (Click HERE to continue Gray-Eyes from Gwendolyn Morris' Website and more from her book Passion: 'In the Nubian Diaspora.' — Note: Website is dicontinued, but look for the book at bookstores.) ________________________________ *** Also Visit T's Corner for Quips from Our Residents. |
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