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Tay POV

I was forgiven for four years before my first son, Kai, was conceived, for manipulation and coercion. Sadly, I lost my second baby with Raven due to miscarriage from the stress and the war.

I begged Riven to stay, but he would not comply because war meant more to him than raising his own son. The team was brand new at the time. Again, she lost the baby in the miscarriage, where Kairion lay crying. Riven didn't even have the heart to comfort his crying son. Riven did not really care. The chain lost his second job because he was a demon who was uncaring. And he was a jerk. Isn't his time with Tay toxic and evil.Kai was conceived from manipulation.Tay’s time with Riven was like a dark cloud hanging over her all the time because he wasn’t a good boyfriend to her. The relationship was not good for him, so it did not last long until he was killed in battle.

Avery POV

I once had a wife named Kara. I was married to her for three years before she was bitten by a zombie and tried to kill my girlfriend. Every now and then he had to kill Kara, even though he did not want to. She would kill Tay

Avery's first wife was named Cara. She was a kind-hearted soul, but unfortunately, she died from a zombie bite. Even though their marriage was fractured by fluctuating trust, he did love her. She was a kind-hearted soul. They never did anything wrong. She unfortunately met a bad end. She got sick and never recovered. So when she got bit by the zombie on attackTay, that was the end of her. He had triple dating after his first wife died. Then he found Tay and has been happy ever since. His first wife, Kara. Their marriage was fractured by trust and infidelity. Even though she was a kind-hearted person, it was too much for him and he ended the marriage.

The robots first attacked the City of London. Before everything else, it was still. The air was too crisp. The lights flickered off and on. We knew that war was coming, but we did not know how to say it yet. The robots are these big metal containers that they would put themselves in. No human was running these robots. There was just a giant computer that was running everything behind the scenes. The mastermind behind all of this. The Great Evil smiled as the ramas wreaked havoc all over the world.

It was a different time, full of opportunity, freedom, and dangers no one yet understood. Some rose with it. Some were consumed by it.
If society had known then what we know now, how different things might have been.
The Elvis I Wish I Knew explores the alternative path the world never saw.

There once was a stone mage who used their powers to unfreeze the storm that had befallen the village where they also lived. They were a simple peasant during the day, like the rest of the villagers, so no one would suspect them of being a very powerful mage. Their name was Quiindalny. They were born in the year 1130 BCE. They knew that if they were to be found out to be a mage, it would be the end for them. Hence, they had to keep a low profile, or the guards would arrest them and take their home away. Their home was where their magical potions were kept. The mage was born from a magical seed that never mothered them or cared, because the flower had no feelings toward its baby. The mage longed for a motherly figure to give them some love and attention, as any mother would. They had never experienced love and compassion before because they were born from a being that had no motherly love or instinct. The mage searched far and wide for the kind of love that they never got in all the years that they had been alive. Unfortunately, for the mage, it made them feel very sad and alone in a world that didn't understand them. The mage wanted love so desperately that they decided to time-travel to 2026 so that they could find love and peace in a world finally made for them. The mage knew that love would appear just as long as they kept searching in the right places. One night, while the mage was cooking, there was a knock on the door. When the mage answered, a beautiful young lady appeared. The mage knew that they needed to find love fast or they would be transported to the hopeless romantic land where hopeless romantics lamented the lack of love in their lives. The mage’s name is Marrow Caelum. The steam curled up from the cauldron, thick and gray, stinging Marrow’s eyes. They stirred the potion with the cracked wooden spoon the way the recipe demanded, clockwise, then counterclockwise, then pause. “I hate this,” they muttered, as another bubble burst and splattered stone‑dust all over their apron. There was a knock at the door just as the stew began to boil. Marrow froze, fingers still wrapped around the wooden spoon. No one came this late. They wiped their hands on their apron and opened the door a crack—then wider, as the cold evening air parted around a beautiful young woman on the step, rain in her hair and a worn backpack slung over one shoulder. “I think,” she said softly, eyes flicking past Marrow to the steaming pot and the shelves of stone-dust jars, “I finally found the right place.”Marrow knew that finding love would be difficult because of who they are—marrow they need to be true to themselves. Marrow is a kind-hearted person who happens to know how to make

The story of an Elvis Presley fan, including a meeting with Priscilla Presley, an encounter with guitarist James Burton, travel stories and personal snapshots from trips to Graceland, Memphis and Tupelo.

The gravel popped under my boots like it had something to say.
Funny how a sound that small can remind you of everything you’ve been carrying — and everything you’ve been avoiding.
I grew up in a place where silence wasn’t peaceful; it was inherited. Passed down like land, like debt, like the things nobody wanted to talk about. In the valley, quiet can feel like a weight on your chest.
For years, I thought strength meant holding everything in — keeping the stories tucked behind my ribs, pretending they didn’t shape me, pretending they didn’t hurt. But healing doesn’t always arrive loud. Sometimes it shows up in the smallest shift, a morning where you finally breathe deeper.
That was the day I understood something simple:
Silence was not protecting me. It was a curse that had been suffocating me from my full potential.
And once I saw it for what it was, I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t go back to shrinking myself just to keep the peace. That moment became the first crack in the inherited silence — the first break in a long line of unspoken things.
As a fulltime student and mother, every moment spent writing is a piece of my heart and future. Your support helps me keep writing the stories that matter- for my children, my community, and anyone learning to find their voice.

I believe I have a serious Independently thought out argument to destroy the narrative of "Selling", "Buying" and "Trading" referring to Slaves around the World.

We sometimes read and / or hear that we Black Africans(I am a West African) "Sold" our own kinds into slavery.

Well, my Independent Historical counter argument is that we DID NOT "sell" or "trade" slaves, because Human beings do not have any price tag(s) to be "sold" or "traded".
Human beings are too sacred / special to have price tags and to be "bought", "sold" or "traded" like Animals and objects.
Thus these terms are obviously Misnomers.
For a luck of better terms, verbs such as "Exchange", "Swap" or "Traffic" would have been more appropriate for the types of activities having serrounded the Transatlantic Slaveries and others, while bearing in mind the very unbalanced natures of the said activities, mostly under pressures.

Ultimately unfortunately, those activities were about Mega Exploitations of Men by Men.

However, fortunately, let me inform folks whom don't know this yet, that on September 2001, the World gathered in Durban, South Africa to Apologize to the Black World about those shameful enslaving activities and classify them as Crime against Humanity.

I accepted, we Africans accepted those two outings from the World back in 2001 and they were Highly appreciated, moving forward.

Furthermore, on March 25, 2026, the United Nations (UN) met at the UN Headquarters and voted on UN Resolution A/80/L.48, classifying the Transatlantic Slaveries as the "Gravest Crime Against Humanity."

Ultimately, Durban and the Resolution
A/80/L.48 retroactively proves my Theory of "No Price Taggable, No Trade".

Dr. Bamba(S.C.), H.c., International Activist In Pluralist PanAfricanism.

Official Facebook Page:

https://m.facebook.com/biyayaibe.bamba .

My Title: Introduction to the Anti-Black Racism Combats 2.0.
Author: Dr. Bamba(S.C.), H.c..

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Updated on 05/11/2022.

Last updated on: 07/28/2026.