Season Finale

There was a furious knocking on our door that sounded like Rat-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta of machine guns and the shouting sounded Nazi in enthusiastic intent.

Leave your mother’s bed behind, said an officious voice.

We’re giving her bunk beds.

I saw furniture and other belongings such as suitcases pile up in the courtyard after being thrown out of windows.  They ordered us out of our apartment with the guarantee of moving us into a better apartment on the other side of the building where they were trying to concentrate 2 elderly women to yet another side with different leases.

They were playing 3 Card Monte with apartments turned into devices akin to mazes for white mice to go in the direction they wanted them to go in.

I refused only to find my mother living in one side of the building filled with fading afterimages of the families that lived there. At night, I protected my mother with a bat, knives and pepper spray in case criminals decided on a home invasion.

The next morning, bunk beds filled the courtyard.

The sight of beds placed my mind into a dream state that took me back in time to the boy I was who carried Anne Frank in his arms through the shadows of burnt out buildings and bullies with swastikas stitched to gang colors in The South Bronx of Captain America.  

Deep down in heart, people are good, Anne whispered in my childhood from a top bunk bed at night disrupted by gunfire from time to time.

I heard my mother scream when they inadvertently broke her arm by denying her repairs to the apartment she moved into with her husband in the time of The Watergate Break-In that flooded the country with dismay and lead to the consensual eviction of a president from The White House. 

Unable to get out of bed, I gently lifted my mother to take her to the bathroom. After I helped her ease back in bed, there were hard knocks on the door. I was served papers for eviction for failure to renew the lease. I kept the bad news from my mother to keep her immune system from weakening. Add lawyer to my homecare attendant duty.

Paradise Management is the name of the company that brought Hell to us all the way to The Housing Court on The Grand Concourse 

Opening statements submitted to the future of history…it was the worse of times…

Homelessness Made Easy For Dummies

Copyrighted 2019 by Daniel Angel Aponte

 

There was a furious knocking on our door that sounded like Rat-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta of machine guns and the shouting sounded Nazi in enthusiastic intent.

Leave your mother’s bed behind, said an officious voice.

We’re giving her bunk beds.

I saw furniture and other belongings such as suitcases pile up in the courtyard after being thrown out of windows.  They ordered us out of our apartment with the guarantee of moving us into a better apartment on the other side of the building where they were trying to concentrate 2 elderly women to yet another side with different leases.

They were playing 3 Card Monte with apartments turned into devices akin to mazes for white mice to go in the direction they wanted them to go in.

I refused only to find my mother living in one side of the building filled with fading afterimages of the families that lived there. At night, I protected my mother with a bat, knives and pepper spray in case criminals decided on a home invasion.

The next morning, bunk beds filled the courtyard.

The sight of beds placed my mind into a dream state that took me back in time to the boy I was who carried Anne Frank in his arms through the shadows of burnt out buildings and bullies with swastikas stitched to gang colors in The South Bronx of Captain America.  

Deep down in heart, people are good, Anne whispered in my childhood from a top bunk bed at night disrupted by gunfire from time to time.

I heard my mother scream when they inadvertently broke her arm by denying her repairs to the apartment she moved into with her husband in the time of The Watergate Break-In that flooded the country with dismay and lead to the consensual eviction of a president from The White House. 

Unable to get out of bed, I gently lifted my mother to take her to the bathroom. After I helped her ease back in bed, there were hard knocks on the door. I was served papers for eviction for failure to renew the lease. I kept the bad news from my mother to keep her immune system from weakening. Add lawyer to my homecare attendant duty.

Paradise Management is the name of the company that brought Hell to us all the way to The Housing Court on The Grand Concourse 

Opening statements submitted to the future of history…it was the worse of times…

Homelessness Made Easy For Dummies

Copyrighted 2019 by Daniel Angel Aponte

Color

 

                    Color Me Noir

                                                    

                                          By Daniel Angel Aponte

                     

                         Copyrighted 2019 All Human Rights Reserved

An animated film about trying to publish a coloring book on The American Dreams of children in The South Bronx and finally outsourced to France where it is translated in many languages and becomes a best seller.

And, yes, there is a sequel to

Life After Media

Genius Is A Minority Drawn From Colors

 http://admericaintechnicolor.blogspot.com

South Bronx American Dream Outsourced To France

 I was 12 years old when a Blue Gem razor blade was about to slice my wrist.

“If you end your life, you’re never know how The Story Ends,” whispered a voice.

I became calm.

I decided to spite everyone that abused me by allowing life to go on.

I was shot at several times while playing Hide N Seek in the summer nights of The South Bronx of burnt buildings and bullies. The bullets whizzed by as I ran faster than I ever ran before to the point of everything slowing down.

I was a 10 years old who had looked into the heart of a lightning bolt that struck several feet away from the stoop we sat on to trade baseball cards and comic books.

My friends were tumbled back by the force of the bolt as I was.

They never saw it coming.

I saw another reality inside the lightning strike that made me think of an episode of Star Trek where a man was transformed by cosmic energy into something beyond humanity.

I crawled inside a TV set among the garbage of our backyard. I see a vast wasteland, said the first president of The FCC. I saw a cowboy ride from Death Valley Days and into The South Bronx as President Ronald Reagan who promised to help my town rebuilt itself.

 Mission: Impossible was my favorite spy show broadcasted from the station with the Eye In The Sky logo. Like Star Trek, it motivated me to technology. I invented stuff that worked and went to the library to borrow books on how to build a computer from junkyards and abandoned buildings of The South Bronx. I wanted A Piece Of The Action like a little kid said with a switchblade in another episode of Star Trek 

The First Page Of Color Me Noir Copyrighted 2019 by Daniel Angel Aponte Dreamer