Promise's Letters From the Road to Astroworld

A narrative in letters. Promise Goodday sent to a mental institution for killing her child, writes letters to her childhood friend Lakeisha Ann. For almost twenty years, Promise has endured the atrocities of Rust Hills--drugs, questionable "therapies," and sexual abuse from a person she named "Big Fingers" are just some of the horrible experiemces. The letters, searing, sad, and sometimes comical chronicle her life at Rust Hills. Is there escape and redemption in the end? Is Astroworld a real or make-believe place?

Excerpt:

Dear LaKeisha Ann:

I think Big Fingers is a woman, or at least has had woman hands transplanted at the ends of his bull shouldered arms. I mean his fingers know my snatch better than my own fingers. They don't fumble. My Charlie the pussy Doctor, fumbled and was very clinical with me. But this man gets to the heart of the matter as he strokes me. And in my moaning I forget about the purple wounds on my ass that he has inflicted.

Love,

Promise

Dear LaKeisha Ann:

Lord, lord, if I were a beast, I would rip Big Fingers's heart out and eat it. You would think this man was on a period the way he swells and bellows toward the end of the month.

He sent another girl to the infirmary. He beat Collette because she forgot how to spell her name. She wrote "'Let'" on her medicine sign-out sheet. She didn't really forget how to spell her name, but you know how it is to be seventeen. You wake up one morning and decide that you want a new name. Big Fingers told her to write "Collette Smith" on the form. She insisted on 'Let.' His blistering coaxial cable did not make her change her mind.

If she dies, I hope death does not rob her of her spirit. I will buy her a tombstone and have "LET" chiseled into its granite face.

Love,

Promise

PS. What's new with you?

Dear LaKeisha Ann:

we had a bad storm here yesterday. The rain battered the windows like a shower of fists--mens' fists. I screamed at the men. Girl, I screamed at them and cursed their Mamas. They started up the bus to drown out my screams. But, baby, I out-screamed their buses. finally they sent in Big Mama to point her finger at me. I came close to biting her finger off at the root, and sucking her until all that was left of her was bitter and dry. But I didn't bite Big Mama.

the rain, I woke up in shackles. I think Big Fingers shackles us girls just so he can get a chance to touch our pussies. When you come out here, I'm going to introduce you to Big Fingers in case you're in the market for a husband.

kiss them grandbabies.

Love,

Promise

© 2020 Wes Writers and Publishers (Rafbók): 6610000265633

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Rafbók: 3 juli 2020