Miriam Bishop | Reedsy Discovery

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4 months ago

1,220! 🤩 Y’all gotta let me know what’s going on.. How are you guys liking the excerpts that I posted so far?!

posted an update6 months ago

6 months ago

Wow! Hello Everybody😍

shared an update on The House that Jacky Built7 months ago

7 months ago

The House That Jacky Built© chapter 7 Crystal answers the phone. “Hello”, “Hey Crys, is_” “Yes Yvette! Tony not here! I told your disrespectful ass to stop calling my phone right”?! “Who”? I asked the dial-tone. She banged the phone on me? I called back. Crystal picks up.” Crystal”! “Hi, it’s me Rayel. Who’s Yvette”? “Oh, sorry girl. Your boyfriend not here though”. “Huh”, Crystal hung up again leaving me confused on the other end “Really”? I called back; Crystal picks up and exclaimed. “I kicked him and that nasty bitch out my house. They were fucking in my room. I suggest you leave his ass alone because when he hopped up, he didn’t have a condom on”. Crystal revealed. I heard a click. I tried calling back but the lines were busy.I hung up. The phone rang. Tony called back. I thought he wasn’t there… I brought up Yvette a 2nd time. “Your niece said some girl you have been seeing stayed there from time to time as well”? I asked him about it. I cursed him out about it. Why would he do this? He denied it at first. Tony said that his niece probably got the voices crossed up. Then claimed he was only seeing the girl because he missed me. I allowed it to have influence over me choosing to see him again. I was the one he wanted. All I had to do was what he asked and other women would fall away. I felt betrayed by his niece although we had never met in person. She knew of me. She was always in the background talking about how excited he was when I did call, so why would she allow another woman to stay in her house. Tony was persistent in trying to reconnect with me. He wanted me to come out to where he was in the Bronx.

posted an update7 months ago

7 months ago

Would you all want to read another excerpt from “The House That Jacky Built” before I publish.

commented on 7 months ago

7 months ago

Hello🥰

posted an update7 months ago

7 months ago

897 Followers. Wow. Thank You 🥰 What are your thoughts about the excerpt “The House That Jacky Built”?

shared an update on The House that Jacky Built9 months ago

9 months ago

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posted an update9 months ago

9 months ago

🎨I create so I don’t kill🔪

posted an update9 months ago

9 months ago

The House That Jacky Built By: Miriam Bishop Sylla Excerpt Chapter One: THEN It was the summer of 2009. I was on my mother’s stoop. I was doing school work for nearly an hour on my computer. My neighbor Travis appeared in front of me. He invited himself on my porch “Hey, what’s up. Can I do something here really quick”? Revealing to me his cannabis and cigar. My neighbors spoke to me when they felt like it and always invited themselves into my yard without permission or when no one was around. I found it interesting that I suddenly had a choice. I never stepped foot on their porch but mine seemed to be the hang out spot. My best friend Marleen lived across the street from me. I used to be closer to the people in the neighborhood. I figured we grew up and apart but we formed clicks and kept a certain decorum with one another. Our chit chats were short and sweet. Nothing too personal. Giving my eyes a break from the bright computer screen, I looked up at Travis. Seeing my neighbors up close when they did decide to engage with me always made me wonder. Travis didn’t have the most welcoming disposition. He was short in stature and fair skinned. His gaze was blank and serious. He was a young man in his twenties; no than taller than 4’11 but he carried himself like he was 6’3. Napoleon Complex. He was a quiet storm. Travis made his way down my basement and stood on the first two steps. From my peripheral, I could see him sorting bags of weed in little zip-lock bags. He then transferred them into one clear plastic bag shoved the sack back into his pocket and darted out of my gate and walked back down to his house. I noticed a man riding on his bike coming in my direction; I kept my eyes on him. I could hear the pitter patter of my daughter’s feet running through the narrow corridor towards the front of the house. I put my computer down next to her to pick up and sit her on my lap. The man pulled up in-front of my house. He parked his bike, posted up and took a breath. He turned himself and the bike to the side, leaned his upper body on my fence using his peripheral to check me out. “Are you looking for someone upstairs”? I asked, pointing to the top floor of my mother’s house and wanting to relieve myself of his presence. I noticed that the man’s hands were jet black. A matte finish incomparable to the rest of his almond-colored body. “No, I’m waiting for Red”. He replied. The bud-guy. “Oh” I replied. He took a look down the street for a while before continuing his peep show. “Aw, your daughter is so pretty”. He complimented. “Thanks”. I replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. I took the time to look at him critically once he took his eyes off of my daughter and I. Was he born with leather hands? He was blind in one eye and had top front teeth missing. I analyzed the man nauseously. He grew his beard full and thick. It covered his cheeks from the bottom of his eyelids to the base of his neck. It appeared to have the growing power to cover his entire face. “How old is your daughter”? The man interrogated. “Two”. I replied, hoping the questions would stop. “What’s her name”? he asked. “Lyric”. I sighed. I felt a slight upset with myself for answering. “She looks like my daughter”. He continued. I tried to hide the disbelief, the offense, if you may. This man subpoenaed conceit in me. I replied, “Really”? “Aww”. His dealer. Finally. I imagined him to be riding up on horseback; dressed as a knight. Saved by the bell. He had come back with what the scruffy stranger had been waiting for. I was relieved until he asked ‘If he could sit for a moment to roll up’. I spoke before my mind could defend itself and replied ‘yes’. I was bored. The whole summer was going by. The only person she spent time with was my best friend until her behind found herself a boyfriend. So, I, refusing to be the third wheel; gave her space and spent the majority of her sunny days alone. As the stranger made his way off of his bike; I was able to get a closer look at his face once he made his way up the stairs and sat down. One of his eyes was much larger than the other. The smaller eye appeared to be closed. Once he was situated, he raised his head; he took a deep breath. I noticed that he was blind in one eye. I stared in clandestine disgust at his hands. They were so scummy. The man went into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of stuff. He began separating the items in his fists one by one. Back wood, Marley organic hemp paper, a lighter and weed. I reminisced my father’s words,‘A man who doesn’t take care of his hands doesn’t care about his penis. A burst of laughter echoed in the halls of her mind at the recollection of her father’s clichés and old-wife’s tales. I decided to break my silence and ask; “Why are your hands so black”? He took a look at them and giggled. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I was born like this” He replied. I could tell he believed what he said and wanted me to believe it too. “Ok”. I said passively. “It’s grease”. “I work on cars and houses”. He surrendered. “Cool” I nodded. As he continued getting his blunt together, I couldn’t calm the turning of her stomach. Feeling somewhat concerned, I wanted to ask if he wasn’t afraid of transferring whatever it was on his hands to his blunt and into his body? Dirty. I sneered. A tiny part of me respected the fact that he worked hard and appeared to enjoy doing so. “You live here by yourself”? Asked Jacky, offering me some of his blunt. “No, thank you”. I replied. “Who lives here with you”? He continued to inquire. He kinda’ nosey ain’t he? I thought to myself. My daughter was outside, duh. He offered that I rolled my own. I accepted. He pinched his blunt in between the corner of his lips and dragged and puffed on.; leaning his body one side to shove his hand in his pocket. The smoke cascaded out of his mouth and nose making its way up and around his face. I wondered if the smoke bothered the eye that he was blind in. He pulled out a plastic hand-tied pouch of weed. He untied the bag, reached down and pinched some weed out of the bag and placed it in the palm of my hand and shared some of his rolling papers and tobacco leaf with me. “I live with my mom and daughter”. I replied. He wiped his sweaty forehead with his for arm and wiped it on his clothes. When he’d feel more sweat trickling down, he wiped his face with the neck of his tattered; greasy T-shirt. While doing so, he mentioned having to make a store run. He asked if she daughter or her wanted anything. I declined. He bought my baby a bag of chips. We chatted for a while. He told me a little more about his daughter who is six years old. He continued to gush about how beautiful my daughter was and insisted how much his daughter looked like mine. “She had done some modeling, but she was now living with her grandparents down south”. He told me that his family; his aunt and uncle; lived only a few blocks from my mother’s house. “They had me come to New York from North Carolina to help their son fix houses that he invests in”.He continued on about how rich his cousin became from doing so. He stayed long enough for him to finish smoking his blunt. I was surprised the talk lasted that long. He said he overstayed his welcome and his lunch break. He said he wouldn’t get in trouble because he worked in a mechanic shop and acquired his own clientele. He had to get back to work. “I enjoyed talking to you so much, I was out here with you for two hours. I was supposed to only be twenty or thirty minutes to grab my weed and head back. “Oh well”. He said giggled. He prepared himself to leave. I didn’t care to ask but he told me his name. He asked for my number. He said he wanted to catch up more after work. I took his number in case her mother wanted any work done or knew someone that did. So long Jacky.

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posted an update9 months ago

9 months ago

“The House That Jacky Built”. The goal is to change lives. https://www.instagram.com/miriam_bishop_pen/

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posted an update9 months ago

9 months ago

I am making beanies for the fall/winter. If you want one made.. reach out. Creativity is Therapy. https://www.instagram.com/bishopandros3/

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posted an update10 months ago

10 months ago

Hello.Thank You for following me. In this space. I wish it to be an intimate one. Welcome to my world. I pray you accept me into yours. Comment. Like . Share…whatever🥰