Chapter 1, Page 5

Women just eat it up when they read his words.  He rather enjoys the attention and letters in response to his essays.  He likes the idea of making the hairs stand on the backs of these women’s necks.  His column is called "Journal of a Fed up Brotha", though he originally wanted to call it "Journal of a Pissed Off "Nigga"".  He thought there was more power behind the later title, but who’s the boss?  Kyle was too edgy for the other magazine’s he’s done work for, so he has more freedom to express what he feels is the truth with this magazine.  The topic of women is a more recent thing.  He keeps it general mostly, current events and things of that sort.   His wife had done him wrong, and his outlet is written word.  But his written word on this subject has brought more readers aboard "Urban Essence" magazine.  Everyone thinks they hold the answers to the cancer of relationships.  Kyle accepts that he just doesn’t know shit.  He just likes the feed back. 

                He rose from his chair at the computer desk and angled for Jaide.  Growling with his fingers arched like claws, Jaide let out a hearty laugh and ran from her play corner of choice.  He chased her around the room until he picked her up and bounced her bottom on his bed.  She took delight in playing with her father.  A boundless love filled her eyes whenever she gazed upon him.  Everyone always reveled in the bond that Kyle has with his daughter.  But he’s endured a bit of a fight to keep that bond thanks to his ex.  She had been with him from the womb and to have someone try to come between that for months creates a bitterness in the mouth. 

                Kyle could see Jaide begin to rub her eyes and that’s all he had been waiting for.  A few more minutes and she would be forced to give in to the tiredness.   So he leaned back on his bed and rolled around with her watching the glee remain constant in her face.  She stopped to rub her eyes with one hand and stroke his face with the other.  Then her hands went limp.  She was motionless.  She was…  She was…  SLEEP!!!  Kyle let out a sigh of relief as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt.  He undid his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up.  Then he began to look around.  With all the playing he lost his plague of sleepiness.  Damn it.  Oh well, he locked his fingers behind his head and leaned back on the bed next to his daughter.  He realized the ceiling fan was in motion as his eyes followed the clockwise motion of the blades.  Almost hypnotized, Kyle fell into a trance.  He may as well have seen the Ghost of Christmas Past, because there it was in front of his eyes.  He could see the moment his wife left him eight months ago clearly as if it were happening right then.