[KweenSparky]

*Shonda launches in the room breathless, she heard Pollies scream when she got off the elevator*

Flashback 9 months ago: Pollie

*Thinking*

Another city where no one knows me I’ll be safe here. This is the 5th time in 9 years I’ve had to move, I swear this is getting redundant. But the money is good; I need it to fill my prescriptions. Why in the hell does it cost so much? I see how people w/o insurance go broke. Of course if I could put it on insurance I’d be straight.

*Saturday afternoon, unpacking her degrees and other office wares; Pollie goes to her bar and pours a drink. She sits down and lets the soft Corinthian leather wrap around her…She says out loud: *

“Sr. Vice-President of Marketing, Pollie Kilpatrick

Yes, yes, yes…who would have thought I’d be racking up 750 THOUSAND DOLLAHS a year. There’s nothing like working for a successful black owned firm; if they could only see me now!”

*Having graduated valedictorian, with her bachelors the first time around; then she hit the double shot by doing it again to get her masters. And because determination had always been her best defense mechanism she hit the tri-fecta and did it thrice when she got her doctorate.

“CHEERS… BITCHES” guzzling down the ice cold vodka in two swallows. She grabs the remote and turns up Tupac…”It’s just me against the world baby…”

After getting her OCD of lining done; yes everything had to be in line and even, post-its, pictures, desk lamp and phone all lined up; including unloading the jump drive to the computer and setting up her folders just so. She was ready to go out and chill; never mind that she’d just polished off a bottle of Level vodka. She was just like her old man…so even though she didn’t get the family dimples, she could hold her liquor. Not even stumbling as she makes her way to the elevator. Time to go home and get some rest, she was going to visit one of the churches she had seen on the local late night station. It seemed big enough that no one would really get deep off in her business. That was the beauty of a mega-church you could worship and as long as you paid your tithes no one would really bother you too much.


First Sunday:
That was a good service, I’m glad the real pastor gave sermon today, because those deacons were some tired brothers.

Second Sunday:
My… that Deacon Jones fellow didn’t do so bad he must not have been here last Sunday. I may actually come back again.

Third Sunday:
*Overwhelmed* Yes Lord this word has been meant for me, for the last two weeks. *She answers the alter call*

*After service Deacon Jones talks to the new members*