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miyuhpapayuh · 9 months

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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Her red bottoms click against the black marble with each stride she takes, her fiery red curls flowing down her back.

Pushing through the glass doors, she pulls her deep burgundy, fur computer chair away from the desk and sits down, grabbing her buzzing phone.

“What?" Simone's sultry, yet irritated voice fills her ex-boyfriend's ears.

"Why you keep sending me to voicemail? You too good to answer me, now?" He spats.

"Anything I do is too good for you, B. I don't even know why I gave your dumb ass a chance, in the first place." She scoffs a laugh, pulling the phone away from her ear and putting it on speaker.

"Wow.... that's how you do me?"

"You cheated on me. What am I supposed to say to you? What do we have to talk about?"

"I keep trying to apologize—"

"Save it." She hangs up and blocks the number, rolling her eyes as she turns around and stares out of her big window.

"Boys."

"Indeed," Jada comes in with a bottle of champagne. Simone turns back around and laughs.

"Is it too early to celebrate?" She asks, sitting the chilled bottle on the desk.

Simone checks her watch and shakes her head, reaching into a compartment under her desk, pulling out two wine glasses.

"It's five o'clock and right about now!... I need a damn drink."

“Let's pop this bottle then, bitch!"

Pulling the cork out of the bottle, the popping sound echoes throughout the space. The fizzy alcohol slightly spills from the top and down the side of the bottle.

The clinking of their glasses and laughter is just what she needs, after another long day of being the best editor in chief in Atlanta, Georgia.

Allura has been her reigning domain for about three years and counting, and she's never felt so powerful.

Having one of the biggest offices with the nicest view on the corner of Peachtree was more than a lifelong accomplishment for her, especially doing it all at the young age of twenty-five.

“Congratulations! We all know that your name should be on every issue. I'm so glad that you're finally being recognized for all the work you put in to make us look fabulous!"

“Thank you, chica! You're up next!"

“Simone, you've got a call on line three,” her personal assistant, Logan, buzzes through.

Sitting her glass down, she pushes the little red button and thanks Logan, before picking up the phone.

“Hello?"

“That beautiful voice is one I could listen to, forever."

A deep chuckle rattles through the phone and down her spine, but she quickly recovers, raising her eyebrows at Jada.

“Is that so?"

Jada grabs the champagne bottle and her glass, before slipping out of the door. Simone laughs and shakes her head.

"Indeed. How's your day going?"

"Well, our next issue just went out and my name is on the cover.”

The excitement in her voice is unmistakable.

"That's incredible, princess."

she swoons at the nickname.

"I'm so proud of you. Did you celebrate?"

"Thank you and yes, my best friend and I popped open that damn champagne bottle that's been staring at me for weeks!"

"Weeks." He reiterates, making her laugh.

“I thought you were gonna wait 'til I made it back, to open it."

"Well, originally, I was— why didn't you call my phone? This, technically, isn't a business call."

The deep chuckle returns. "You're a very busy woman, Ms. Carson. I didn't wanna disturb you."

“Hm... fair enough," she sticks her tongue into her cheek, "enough about me... how are you?”

"As long as I'm talking to you, I'm great."

She giggles, sipping on the golden toned liquid that's left in her glass.

"When you kiss ass, you get both cheeks, don't you?"

“Hm, I guess I should pay you a visit, soon. You get a little rowdy, when I'm away for too long—"

“—is that right?," she cuts him off.

A pet peeve of his. He licks his lips and laughs, but she knows it's less than amusing to him.

“That's right. You like startin' fires, but I'm coming to put ‘em out."

She crosses her legs, smirking as her plan works, once again.

“When?"

“Soon."

“I won't be waiting."

A little lie never hurt anybody, right?

Lie on this phone, again, Simone."

She rolls her eyes as if he can see her.

"I'll see you when I see you."

She hangs up and steps away from her desk, heading out of her own office and further down the hall to Jada's. Walking into the creamsicle colored office, Simone takes a whiff of the cinnamon incense burning, before that amused chuckle fills her ears.

“That was a quick little conversation." Jada eyes Simone as she moves towards the window, with a sly smirk on her face.

“What can I say?" she sighs, "we don't beat around the bush."

"Mmhm. He gon' come beat them walls down, ain't he?" She asks.

A boisterous laugh escapes her, before she can stop it.

“Is he really?!"

The excitement is unmistakable in her tone as she moves from her chair to poke Simone's side.

“He's always poppin' up to put me in my place as he calls it."

“When's the last time he came down?"

“February," she replies.

"It's damn near May, girl!"

“I know, Jada. How do you think I feel?”

“I'd be dead by now, no lie. The way you talk about him, he's the truth."

Simone pulls on her open collar and sighs. "...with his arrogant, fine ass."

They both laugh and move away from the window. "So," closing her office door, Simone raises an eyebrow at Jada. "Where's lover boy?"

“Oh God," Jada rolls her eyes, "he's around here, somewhere. I had to shoo him away—"

“Why?!"

“Cause he's tryna make me fall in love with him! I do not wanna do that. We can fuck— we can do that all day long— but that's it."

"Yeah, right. You know you want him all to yourself.”

“In the nastiest way, possible.... yes."

"Hm.....well I'm gonna head home. Enjoy the champagne."

"I will! Text me when you make it."

"Will do."

Heading back into her maroon hued office, she grabs her phone off her desk and her bag from her bottom drawer, before turning off her lights and locking her door behind herself.

Heading towards the elevator, she pushes the button to take her downstairs. Her phone goes off with a message. The doors slide open and she steps on, pushing the golden button with the dim 1 on it, lighting it up. She pulls her phone out and scoffs a laugh.

Call me when you get home.

So you can harass me, some more?

Cut that out. I just wanna talk.

Stepping off the elevator, she makes her way down the wide hall and passes the receptionist, waving her goodbye.

“Have a wonderful night, Ms. Carson."

“You too, Liz."

Making her way outside, she heads towards her red Mercedes and gets in, plugging her phone up to her Bluetooth. Summer Walker's voice flows through her speakers as she makes her engine come to life. Instead of quickly going home to call the smug bastard that weakens her knees, she cruises down the street, watching as the pink sky turns into a deep orange.

"My last nigga was a bitch nigga I need a nigga wit bout six figures. Someone who know what to do with it, yeah Someone who ain't on that goofy shit..."

“Ugh," she turns down her street and slowly pulls into her driveway, cuts the car off and walks up the brick-lined sidewalk. Once inside her loft, she locks her door and kicks her heels off, heading into her living room to plop down on her sofa.

Running her hands through her curls, she pulls her phone out and shoots a text to Jada, before tapping his contact, watching the call connect after two rings, his handsome face coming into view.

"Don't you look gorgeous.”

"You got me beat, handsome."

"I could never.”

He props his phone up and places his salt and peppered, beard-clad chin into the palm of his calloused hand, his eyes wandering down the valley of her exposed chest.

"You left the house, like that?"

"I'm grown, yes." He laughs.

"Nobody had a heart attack?"

This makes her laugh.

"The usual perverts, but it's nothing I can't handle. How was work?"

"It was fine. Just a regular day at the office, honestly. I'll be glad when I can come back."

"I thought you could just do it, without needing permission?"

"It's a little more complicated, this time. I got some deadlines to meet and then I can be outta here."

The slight pout on her face makes him smile.

"You miss me, don't you?"

"Unfortunately." Her expression straightens, but he's unfazed. He even laughs.

"Nah, you blew that mean ass act, when I picked up the phone… callin' me handsome and flippin' your hair. Don't try it, now."

"That doesn't mean anything."

She props her phone up against the stack of records on her pink tinted, glass table and leans forward, her cleavage daring to jump from underneath the silk fabric.

"You're such a tease.”

"You like it, though."

Standing back up from the couch, she grabs her phone and heads upstairs, into her bedroom. He scoffs.

"My feet are killing me,” she stresses as she lets the phone fall onto the bed, while she pulls a navy blue bralette and panty set out.

"You're annoying, but your hands work magic. I could use that, right now." She continues.

Stripping out of her work clothes in record time, she ignores his chuckle and pulls on her set, grabbing the matching robe off her vanity chair.

"When I come back, you can get all the magic you desire."

"Can I, really?" She asks in a sarcastic tone, as she sits down at her vanity and props her phone up.

A deep sigh leaves as he stares at her. "Damn... you definitely can, babygirl."

"You should find a way to come back, sooner."

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't guarantee anything."

"But, I miss you," that famous pout returns, causing him to chuckle.

"I miss you more, princess. Quit pouting."

"I'll stop pouting, when you get here."

He shakes his head and stands up, walking into his kitchen. She hums to herself as she watches his back muscles flex underneath his shirt, with the slightest movements.

"Jesus." She mutters to herself, as he turns around to face the camera, his black sweats hanging low on his hips. Her eyes linger on his outlined print, causing a chill to creep up her spine.

"Did you hear me, babygirl?" His tone is full of amusement as he watches her eyes dart up to his face.

"What did you say?"

"You've got some gifts coming your way, tomorrow."

"What kind of gifts?" Her ears perk up.

"Just a couple of things to hold you over, until I return."

"You didn't have to get me, anything—"

"Yes I did. I know you still don't like asking for things, but we'll break you out of that. It's just a couple of gifts, I promise."

"But, babe," she whines.

"Imani. I've already told you, my money is yours to spend." She sighs, staring at her nails.

"I want you to take me out when you come back."

"Where do you wanna go?" He comes back to his chair, giving her a full view of his grown out beard.

"I don't know, yet. It's one of those restaurants where the flowers hang overhead and there's lights everywhere! I just wanna get dolled up, eat good, drink good... come back to my place and fuck good."

He raises an eyebrow at her, but she just innocently smiles. "You're something else."

"That's why you put up with me." She winks.

"That and many other reasons. But, I'll see about the restaurant and set everything up."

"Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome. What's on the agenda for tomorrow?" She groans at the mention of her backed up schedule.

"I've got a press conference in the morning. The building is supposed to be getting redesigned and my goofy ass decided to put my two cents in, and now I gotta sit in for the meeting after that. Then, I've gotta help Jada find her sister the perfect wedding dress, before next Friday— it's just a little too much going on."

"You've got this, business woman. Hard work pays off, right?"

She nods, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. "That, it does."

"It's all worth it, then."

Staring at the clock on the other end of her vanity, she sighs. "It's almost seven and I haven't eaten a thing."

"You drank on an empty stomach?"

"Yeah, but I only had half a glass. I might just order a pizza or something. And no, I don't want you to buy it for me. I'm still mad at you for paying my rent."

"You can front all you want, but I take care of mine. You keep your money in the bank and let me spend mine on you."

She rolls her eyes, fighting the smirk that makes its way onto her lips. "I'm hanging up, now."

"Why?"

"Cause, I can't fight you through this screen." He laughs.

"Keep that same energy, babygirl."

"It's kept. Goodnight." She blows a kiss.

"Goodnight."

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

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propheticeve · 6 months

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In the shadows of a brutal era in American history, where oppression and cruelty reigned, a powerful form of resistance took root: the Praise House. For enslaved black individuals in the Antebellum South, the Praise House stood as a sacred sanctuary, a place where they could defy the oppressive Christian views imposed upon them by their slave masters.

In a world where the power structures dictated every aspect of an enslaved person's existence, the Praise House emerged as a symbol of defiance and strength. It became a space where faith, culture, and the indomitable spirit of the African diaspora could thrive despite the dehumanizing conditions of slavery.

Meetings in the Praise House were not confined to the familiar rhythms of Sunday mornings. Instead, these gatherings typically took place on weeknights, a subtle act of rebellion in itself. The slave masters preferred their human property to attend white-dominated churches, where carefully curated sermons served as a reinforcement of the slave system, often using scripture as a tool of control.

Within the walls of the Praise House, the enslaved black community found solace in the absence of opulent Christian symbols and trappings. There, empty space was favored over altars, kneelers, pulpits, and even chairs and pews. This minimalism provided the space needed for the powerful and spiritually charged "ring shouts," an integral part of the all-night sessions of prayer and song. These gatherings were more than just expressions of faith; they were acts of resistance, defiance, and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Even in the most degrading conditions, religious life and practice served as a source of strength and unity for the slave community. The Praise House became the focal point of their lives on the plantations, a place where their identity was preserved and their spirits were nurtured.

As time passed and the shackles of slavery fell away, the significance of Praise Houses remained unwavering. They continued to serve as the heart of the African community, a testament to the enduring strength of culture and faith.

Today, we at My Mind and Me Inc and the Temple of Living Word a 501c3 non profit based in Atlanta are on a mission to rekindle the traditions of the past and return to our Southern hoodoo roots. Our goal is to open our own Praise House in Atlanta, where hoodoos, practitioners of African Traditional Religions (ATRs), and individuals of all backgrounds can practice openly, without judgment. In this sacred space, we will offer open altars, prayer sessions, spaces for practitioners to teach, and, of course, the continuation of the cherished tradition of ring shouts.

To make this vision a reality, we need your support. Be a part of a bigger picture, a story of resistance and resilience. Donate today and help us build a Praise House that stands as a testament to the enduring strength of culture, faith, and unity. Together, we can create a space where souls find solace, healing, and renewal.

Join us on this sacred journey, and be a part of history.

Please SHARE! SHARE! SHARE!

Atlanta family TAP IN

@mymindandmeinc @realconjuhwoeman

#hoodoo #medium #ancestor veneration #witch #rootwork #black women #conjure #prophet #tutnese #luxury #gofundme #nonprofit #healing #donate

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