Black Short Stories : From Noose To Bullet

Discussion in 'Short Stories - Authors - Writing' started by Al D, Dec 31, 2015.

  1. Al D

    Al D We become that which we repeatedly do.. PREMIUM MEMBER

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    Early 1900's Anywhere in Anytown USA.

    Where ya goi'n boy were the words that ricochet loudly off the air drums of a tired and worn down but proud young Black man on this hot, muggy and sweltering day in Anytown U.S.A.

    Big Mo kept on walking because he just wasn't in the mood to be dealing with some redneck cra-ker on a hot and muggy afternoon. He had just finished putting in another long hard days work in the plant and the only thing on his mind right now, was getting home to his wife and kids, taking a shower and sitting down to have a nice home cooked meal. After which he would go out on the front porch, enjoy a nice cool drink, watch the kids play around for a while before calling it another day. But before he could even entertain any of that, he had to deal with this irritating and ignorant cra-ker...

    Hey nig-er, you hear me talk'in to ya? I said where ya goi'n? Big Mo was in long strides, trying to put some distance between them as he wanted to reach the bus before the confrontation he knew was imminent caught up with him. He could see the bus pulling up to the stop but he was just not close enough to get on and avoid what was coming. Da-n, he thought to himself, out of all the days to possibly be late getting home for dinner. Why this one? You see this day was also a special occasion for Big Mo and his wife. They were soon to be the proud owners of a new home and this would be their night to celebrate.. It didn't matter that he still had to rely on public transportation to get around because ownership of a home is what he and his wife, Mattie had always dreamed of. It would give them a sense of security and it would be theirs..Not too many Black folk owned their homes then but they would be one of the few that did..Yes, this was indeed caused for celebration...First things first though...

    Big Mo came to an abrupt stop, whirled his huge frame of a body around and glared with an incessant disdain and annoyance directly into the eyes of his insolent pursuer and said, what you want with me? I ain't doing nothing but trying to get home to my wife and kids. Unfortunately Big Mo wouldn't make it home this night. He had dared question a white man and did so in a manner that was considered challenging to the authority and superiority of this nobody cra-ker. A heated exchange between the two would ensue and it would draw the unwanted attention of other white folks. Soon afterwards a mob of curious and angry white men would gather around and the instigator would accuse Big Mo of being an uppity nig-er who needed to be taught a lesson. They would collapse around Big MO, beat him down and take him out to the woods to string him up. He wouldn't be celebrating with his wife tonight, he wouldn't be sitting down to enjoy his dinner with his family, he wouldn't be sitting out on the porch sipping a cool drink while his children played and he and his family would never know the experience of owning their own home.

    He would never live to breathe another day in Anytown USA. All because of the ignorance and racist vile that has permeated the air throughout American society and has profusely stained its soil with the innocent blood of ( too many to count ) black men, women and children in this country. This is a short story that is all to reminiscent of what it is like to be Black and living in a white dominated society. This has an oh so familiar ring to it does it not? The scenario has been played out time and time again in this white dominated world of ours one way or another.

    Let's fast forward 150 years and we are still experiencing the same racist vitriol. The perpetrators today are in the uniforms of Law enforcement. Whether it is walking, driving, jogging, shopping or playing in a department store or a park with a play gun, having dark skin is an open invitation for harassment and possible death. Just the mere suspicion of guilt by law enforcement or any white citizen today, ( just as it was back then ) appears to be cause enough to justify murder....It appears that we have gone from the noose to the bullet and we can't seem to shake it....We pray for the families of those innocent Black lives who have left this planet so abruptly at the hands of racism and by those who have an indifference to life. We must feel a compelling duty to eradicate our society of this insensitivity to human life on both sides of the paradigm or we are doomed....

    We are all Big Mo's, Mattie's, their family and some of us may never make it back home. This my people is the harsh reality of the world we live in today. It is much to often the unavoidable and undeniable brevity of life for Black folk here in America..

    All prayers to the most high for strength and courage as we embark on a new meaningful course for the Black Diaspora..

    Written by; Al Deveaux Jr. Africafifth

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  2. cocobutterskyn

    cocobutterskyn Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Wow, this stirs many emotions. What is most frightening about, "From Noose to Bullet" with the noose there was often the use of hooded sheets to hide identities or what have you. With the bullet, hiding identities matter about as much as black lives matter to white America. Seems they've traded hooded sheets in for badges and display their faces proudly.

    This was disturbing..its difficult to say, a good read. However, sometimes it takes a great disturbance to motivate one to take action, to right what's wrong.

    Thanks again for sharing your work!

    Coco
     
  3. Al D

    Al D We become that which we repeatedly do.. PREMIUM MEMBER

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  4. cocobutterskyn

    cocobutterskyn Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Good afternoon Al.

    I'm well aware of that. Its why I included the word "often" in my post. However, thanks for taking the time to supply visual information.

    Enjoy the rest of your day!
    Coco
     
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