It was about a year ago when I began playing around with the self publishing software. It occurred to me that if I could self publish the journals for Vizionz I could create workshop supplements for the conference. I didn’t finish them in time to get author copies to me before I had to board the plane but I did finish them. They’ve had both good and ‘bad months but I did them and the public has them.

I’ve been mentally writing Vizionz from the Bottom the novel for a good 20 years now. My story with the names changed to protect my pockets as I expose the guilty. In the aftermath of May 2022 I realized that I didn’t have to do a year by year recap of the story of Nicole, instead I could pick one point, tell the story well, and build from there.

I’ve told the story of me from 2014 to today in these entries but as transparent as I can be here, there is more to the story.

A little more transparency, this shit is rough. You need opposites to describe and because of that I cannot just sit in the current joy I have to also revisit the pain. It is not crippling but it can be debilitating. On the one hand it is a reminder that I don’t have to live in that reality. It is also ripping the scab off a would that doesn’t actually heal it just doesn’t constantly bleed.

I am sharing the opening pages with you Constant Reader as a glimpse. The editor made it even better but fuck modestly what I did was pretty good. What I was not expecting was that it would be done before my return to the conference. A year ago I did not think it was possible. I’ve done a lot of impossible things these last 5 years though. More impossible things are ahead of me. I am still stunned at times, and I know by now I should not. The super sexy part of this is without the distractions I am a bit of a superhero.

I end every episode of Da Smoke with a thank you and it feels like I haven’t done that here for a while.

Thank you for walking with me. Thank you for listening to my story. Thank you for every minute you take to read these words typos and all. Thank you even to those who read waiting for the next misstep. Even as I expand outside here, Vizionz will remain. I hope you do also, you’ve shared my pain I want you to also experience my joy.

The actual distance was 1.6 miles, but it felt both longer and shorter that day.  It was Halloween 2014. The weather was unseasonably warm in Philadelphia that day. The woman writing this in 2024 can find the victory in that nugget of information. The woman making that walk as dusk turned to night no longer believed in victory. She did not know what she believed in as she navigated the familiar terrain on foot. She’d spent most of her life in this part of town. When she’d run away from home for the last time at age 9 her preteen feet walked the same concrete, ironically with similar hesitation.  This time she was walking to the house not away from it. What waited for her at the destination was no less devastating, no less life altering than her destination over three decades prior. As she walked every inch of her skin felt hot.  There was not a lot of pedestrian traffic despite the time of day and holiday.  There were people outside though, and a portion of Nicole took note that they gave her a wide berth as she walked. She heard ‘she looks mad as hell’ except she also did not. She could hear her heartbeat racing abnormally.  She could hear the words of the Judge from earlier in the day. She could hear the words of her family advocate. She could hear all those voices and judgments when the urgent and plaintive cries of her son were not drowning them out. Kyle rarely cried as an infant.  Every missed tantrum and tear from then came out this afternoon. Nicole was powerless to stop them. If there is a bigger fear a parent has than being helpless to shield your child, I have not encountered it.  

The night grew darker as she got closer to her residence. She wished for more time.  She wished for a reset. She wished for her steps to be unsure and to walk into traffic. No other wishes came through that day, these would be no exception.  

Nicole paused when she got to the corner of her ‘block’. She paused on the corner where she had driven her Buick into the cemetery retaining wall 13 years prior which triggered her labor. She could see both the house she would have had to sleep in from that vantage point and the house she had to go enter before to retrieve Catherine. Catherine is her mother and she had to somehow explain to this woman her only grandchild was not coming home. There was another nugget of information she would need to disclose. Catherine would not be going home either.  

As she walked the last yards to the residence, the weight of the day finally began to hit her. Her eyes could not focus through the tears. Lifting her legs felt like lifting anchors from a mile underwater. Her fingers were both tingling and numb. Step by step she continued, there was no other option.  

She stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at the door to her godmother’s house.