http://slow.writerscafe.org/ltkodzo The original writings of author LT Kodzo en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776071490 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Ofcourse, I feel stupid after I read the first sentence of Mark. It’s not a storyabout a guy named Mark at all. It’s about Jesus. I shake my head and take anotherbite of my apple and flip through the pages. I’m not ready to read about Jesus.Not ready to have him judge me li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700502/ Atleast twenty minutes of getting up, pacing, and waiting happens before I slidedown the wall next to the sink. I discover my cell doesn’t have a camera. Itwouldn’t need one of course, the locked door ensures my location and the bareroom limits my activity. I lean against the yel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700495/ Darknessengulfs us. People gasp and shove. Counselors, guards, inmates mingle as a massof frightened life. I lose Dee Dee’s hand as screams echo off the walls. Fearprickles across my skin and I feel my soul sink into my feet. People bump andgrab at me in the blackness. I do not want to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700489/ Thatcamping guy is in big trouble. I turn and chase after the completely goneJackson. Ash floats on the air in random flakes and breathing becomes hard. Thecrackle of cooked pines replaces the sound of birds or bugs or life, stilldistant, but coming. The hazy sky circles the entire campus as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700479/ Thedoor to Dr. Maggie’s office stands open and African drums beat out a rhythmictune. When I peek around the corner, I half expect to see the counselordancing. Instead, she sits at her desk. A standard number two pencil busilyscribbles on a page. “Hello.”I step in and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700465/ WhenI was ten, my uncle bought me my first pair of designer shoes. They didn’t havea heel, he wouldn’t have done that, but the Prada patent-leather loafers shoneunder the loving care of Nanny Bella’s soft cloth. That joy, which was largerthan life to me still, didn’t .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700454/ Twodays later, streamers hang along the back of the amphitheater for thesemi-annual graduation. The student decoration committee strung Christmaslights along the trees. The soft white lights gain strength as the late summersun sets over the high mountains. A warm breeze tosses instrumental m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1700447/ I wander through The Centerchomping on crackers and sipping water and trying to grasp my condition. Notjust my pregnancy, but the different interactions I’ve had with the inmates Iarrived with. It’s more clear than ever that Fisher and I are cut from the samecloth. Obvious even. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699379/ Idon’t like it. I don’t do it on purpose. But, my laughter doesn’t stop fordays. Every time that stupid song wakes me up, my hysterics start. I call ithysterics, because that’s how uncontrollable it feels. The rest of June passeswith my head locked in some tragic come.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699375/ For the first time in my visits,the counselor’s office becomes a refuge. I hurry in and sit down. Surrounded byeclectic decorations, I try to relax. African statues and paintings and potteryliven the room. A picture of the psychologist in a Safari jeep with three otherpeople leads me t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699374/ Itonly takes a couple weeks for me to adjust to The Bracelet. Like the cameras.Like The Shackle. Like anything else in The Center, my mind found a way to adjust.Things my heart either accepts or forgets. How else do I explain trustingDaniel? My mind completely forgot he was a loser and jerk... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699369/ Suicide.Wow. What an idea. I’ve never thought about that before, why should I? I have alife of privilege. Everything I do, good or bad, is for me. Why would I destroymyself? I love myself. If you’d have asked me even one day ago I would havetold you about my greatness. Wealthy he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699357/ Ibounce my foot against the bedpost. It’s hard to breathe. I’ve been tagged asaggressive in this messed-up detention center. At any moment I could be zappedby this wicked device. The reality melts into my heart. I can’t even feeldisappointed. In the depths of me, I know I e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699354/ Heavysleep seeps from my body. My eyes won’t open. I attempt to wipe away the weightfrom my lids, but my arm won’t move. My fingers open and close, my handrotates. I try to shift my leg, but feel the same constraint at my ankle. Unconsciousnessdrains from my brain along with the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1699348/ Mt.Vernon Baptist Church sat between the library where I bought the drugs and Daniel'shouse. The small parking lot on the corner of Joyce and 23rd Streetcould hold fifteen cars. I parked next to a blue Hyundai. The building lookedprehistoric, a perfect place for ancient ideas. Walls of layer.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1678441/ Anunexpected cold front settled over Northern Virginia the day of my arrest. Thewind chill registered minus seventeen degrees Fahrenheit. In the back of thepolice car, the cuffs cut into my wrists. I fought to keep my face musclescalm. My mind raced with possible scenarios.Ascare tacti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1678440/ NannyBella blocked the entrance to the house even after the Virginia police officershowed her his badge. She had no idea that I was expecting someone eventually.  After all, I was a witness to Daniel’spresence in the Vaughn household. Once I convinced this cop of Daniel’s guil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1678437/ Istarted to give Nicole the Oxy in small doses when her face convulsed and eyeswatered. It was the least I could do. The doctors obviously weren’t giving herenough. I couldn’t do it forever. We both knew that.Thatwasn’t the plan. After I picked up the scripts from the M.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652092/ Ireturned to Virginia a few days later. Bailey met me at the airport toapologize. Hug. Kiss.Whatever.I wastoo busy to worry about her. For two weeks, I smiled and nodded at everyonewhile hurrying through my plans to buy Oxy online. Hatred for Daniel fueled me.The rumors h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652086/ Icouldn’t believe it. Thepolice.Thatwasn’t my intention.Theambulance. Icouldn’t go to school.The entireincident terrified me. The world continued to revolve despite my disbelief.Classes continued without me. Planes flew passengers over the Potomac... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652082/ Mylife had somehow become a series of cascading dominoes. Click.Bailey ran her mouth off to Kylie before school started. Click.Two hours later, I overheard the rumor in English class.Click.I watched Kylie tell Alex on the lawn in front of Master's Elite during lunch. Itwas .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652081/ NicoleVaughn. Puke.Herlast name was as vile as her sudden importance. The next two days tortured me likeone of the horrible operas Aunt Constance dragged Bailey and me to. The entiretragedy had reached a crescendo. After school, Daniel asked nasty Nicole Vaughnto the Harvest Costum.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652078/ Schoolstarted the Tuesday following that hot night in Daniel’s car. I thought forsure I’d see him throughout the week, but turned out we didn’t have any classestogether. In the population of Master’s Elite students, Daniel’s presenceevaporated. Nocalls. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652072/ Love.Thatwas really what this all boiled down to, love.BeforeThe Center.Beforethe baby.BeforeDaniel Orbach.Allthis mess happened to me from a desire to be loved by a man. Any man. If I tryto land on where it all began, I'd have to say it was the day I met KurtFoster.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1652070/ Fromthe outlying forest, the crunch of running boots ricochets against the canyonwalls. The guards. I push off the tree and search for a place to positionmyself. Pines and aspens aren’t made for climbing. Not that I’ve ever climbed atree in my life. Better stay on the ground... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1648475/ Guilty.Guilty. Seven times guilty. I can’t argue with popular opinion. Might as wellhate myself too. I’ve done a great job of messing up everything. This life. Mylife. “Courtney Manchester Bites!” Broadcast it to the world for all I care. Isuck in air but it bring.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1648472/ Thelack of air in The Chapel suffocates me. This is crazy. I don’t know anythingabout the Bible. My stomach whirls like a hurricane. Based on Daniel’sexpression throughout the morning, the message has to be something wonderful. Hehasn’t smiled at me like that since before s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1648470/ Whenthe hour-long, Christian concert ends, I feel like I’ve been to a circus andwatched three motorcycles speed around a metal sphere. As a kid I was intriguedand frightened at the same time, some deep part of my psyche wanted to join theshow. But seriously. I’m not eleven anymor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1647375/ Fisher’sin The Bunker. Mario’sin my advanced math class. I’min shock. Nothingin this place makes sense. Not the baby. Not the attack. Not the walking aroundlike everything’s normal. I find myself studying the short Latino for answers. Theguy walks arou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1647372/ BeforeI can thank Mario for what he’s done, he drops the branch and grabs his wrist.The Bracelet hums to life and I scream, “No!” Marioconvulses before me. Ishout at the camera, “Turn it off! Turn it off!”Butthey don’t listen.Mario’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1647370/ Onhour later, I know I’m more angry at myself than I am at the rest of them. Ididn’t want to hurt Dee Dee’s feelings, but let’s be serious, none of them werevirgins, yet only I was pregnant. I rub my non-existent belly bump and hike upthe hill. The Keep-It-Green Team .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644654/ Thewhiny crooner gets me out of bed for the next two weeks. I wander throughclasses desperate to find a means of escape, but I’m trapped. Not just by TheCenter, but by the new life growing inside of me. Nausea becomes my constantcompanion. Before I eat, I stare at the food with suspici.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644644/ Jacksonhelps me up the mountain stairs. At the clinic, he leaves me in the horriblestrip-search room. I climb up on the table again. The hard surface brings chills,but my stomach isn’t retching anymore. My head hurts, but I’m glad. No one likesbeing sick, but today it could be th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644629/ “Nicelook, princess.” Fisher laughs.Ican’t flip him off with the banana in my hand, so I retaliate with, “Betterthan a mullet.”“Noway, man.” He runs his fingers through the greasy strands dangling at his nape.Iroll my eyes and face Ja.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644623/ Atsix-freaking-thirty-five in the morning, I roll onto my side and stuff the thinpillow against my ears. Instead of being awakened by a blasting alarm, speakersoutside echoed the sound of a lonely guitar-slash-piano song over and over. Somewhiny dude croons about the greatest love of all. An.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644619/ Wehad what they call dinner delivered during our stay in the orientation room.Sandwiches and fruit with a bottle of water as we went over class registrationand job descriptions. Any hope of light in the sky is gone when Jackson takesFisher and Mario from the room. After about fifteen minutes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644615/ Walkingback to the orientation room, I run my hand along the wooden walls. The smoothveneer prevents slivers but not the bumps and knots. Numbness coats every cellin my body except my fingertips. Bump.Knot.Smooth.Ineed to snap out of this funk. So what if Uncle John can&rsquo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644608/ Oncewhen I was about ten-years old, a neighborhood boy tried to pull down my pants.I ended up smacking the crap out of him. I am never the victim. Neveroverwhelmed. But here? I have no power. No call to my uncle can undo thehumiliation of a cavity search. Idon’t say anything as I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644607/ Theyescort us from the room and down the hall. Dee Dee is led into the first dooron the left. I’m taken to the second. I have no idea where Fisher and Mariohave gone, but I imagine they’re separated too. The room I’m in is smaller thanmy closet. Against the wall, a padded t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644603/ Jacksonturns the lights on then changes places with Rowena. “You are here to learn tobe better citizens. You will all have jobs, chores, and classes.”“That’sslave labor,” Fisher complains.“You’llearn a wage.”“Howmuch?”.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644602/ Itwas Nanny Bella who taught me to pray. She’d rub her thumb and index fingerover rosary beads while I watched. I don’t own a rosary. In fact, I don’t own abelief system. That didn’t stop me from asking Nanny Bella’s baby Jesus to helpme as I bury my face in my .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644601/ The ride through Grand Junction isbumpy. When Jackson’s not looking, I crack open the water and take a drink. Idid it. Everyone on this bus, except the guard, knows that I’m not someone tomess with. My stomach no longer bothers me, but my destination does. Like it ornot, I’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644599/ “What in the …,” Jackson bitesback a curse as he fumbles with the gate lock. “Wasn’t me,” Fisher whines.I take in another deep breath,but it doesn’t work. The next time I open my mouth, projectile vomit covers thehandsome guard and splatters a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644596/ First chapter in the first part of a three part novel http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644595/ The niece of a US Senator is sent to a high-tech prison that straps tasers to violent inmates. Will the 18-year-old run things on the inside like she did on the outside, or lose more than her freedom? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ltkodzo/1644594/