Short Story for Class

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Just a short story for class… 🙂

Imperfect Writer: My Journey to Finding Myself

A Small Bouquet of Roses

He came through the door with small a bouquet of roses, a card and a brown paper bag of breakfast. When I was younger I often heard truth between the lines of every black romance movie that “Black women are destined for black successful men or doomed to be unhappy and single for the rest of their lives or unhappy with children for the rest of their lives.” I did not think much of about romance when I was younger, in fact, love in my mind seemed quite complicated. My parents often spoke of it as a fling for most of my life. Until I reached the age of twenty when I grew closer to the age of drinking alcohol and partying. I was always molded, prepared, and told to go through life without thinking about romance. My father often spoke of it as if…

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