Free The Complete Zagzagel Diaries by Bryl R. Tyne Page B

been taken from me. Thinking on it hurt. Literally, my head throbbed with pain the more I tried to remember Big Papa’s face or His words, and I knew we had had them...at least, I thought we had. What I could not recall were the specifics of the outcome of our last confrontation. One minute I had knelt on my knees before Him, the next, I found myself wandering this lonely stretch of road….
    Men, the rugged and the whimsical, passed the entrance; I couldn’t help but take them in—their differences and their likes. Some families, picnic gear in tow, headed home. Three punk skateboarders vied for attention on the sloped corner near the stoplight. Not a one of the people I watched seemed truly happy. Of course, nothing new, not with you humans, but it bothered me deep down, and I didn’t understand why. Unlike when I’d found fascination or folly in my past, or, at the very least, something to pass my time, I now realized how much I truly disliked watching you in action.
    As far back in my memories as I scrolled, I remember watching over you—some of you from the time you took your first breath, and I held some of your hands all the way to the grave. I was paid to watch, I admit, though, not in any way you might understand. Fulfilling my duties had earned me recognition at Big Papa’s feet. Performing my job well garnered His…well, to put it simply, I was paid in love.
    Nothing thrilled me more than knowing I’d receive Papa’s blessing, and yet at the same time, each assignment He handed down made me despise being told what to do, how to do it, when and where, just a little bit more. From that revelation alongside my current actions, I should’ve noticed something was different, but I didn’t, and I continued, even when I found I wasn’t being paid to do so…
    Fishnet, black and finely woven, stretched taut on a pair of snow-white legs that went on forever… Now, there was a sight worth emblazoning to memory. Not as if I’d never come across stockings or legs that fine. Nonetheless, something about this woman captivated me.
    From the way she leaned half into the open car window to the way she backed away with a jerk and a snap, flipped both her purse and her hair over the same shoulder in the span of a breath, I was hooked. As she stalked my way, I continued to gawk, mouth agape…pleading with my brain and my eyes to turn away, mind my own business. Common sense failed: I couldn’t do it.
    She crossed the first intersection…and she didn’t turn. I stepped back into the shadows of the darkened ma & pa breakfast joint and pressed against the wall. Oddly, I froze, arms straight, palms to the bricks on either side of me, as if holding my breath might help. I held the pose, a strange foreboding washing over me, yet with the sudden adrenaline, I’d never felt more alive. Tongue nervously playing with my bottom lip, I peered around the corner—she’d passed the second intersection…two buildings away—I groaned, smacking the back of my head against the wall in my hasty return. With her nearing footfalls, panic consumed me, a feeling I’d never known, and I felt excited and yet so utterly alone all at once. Whatever the reasons for my reactions, I didn’t understand. My heart raced.
    She rounded the corner of the building.
    Our gazes locked…beguiling amber eyes carried me back to a memory I didn’t want to claim but could not deny.
    Bowed at Big Papa’s feet, forehead pressed to His knee, I’d wept. Ages ago, His robes had calmed my rage, absorbed my tears and anguish…and I think, at the time, I cared for Him as much as I felt He cared for me. Somehow, circumstances—or maybe life—had me forget.
    “No greater love exists than that which I have for you, Papa.” Try as I might to show my reverence, my words had sounded unconvincing, even to my ears, and I recall bracing myself for the swift action I’d anticipated in His reply.
    Papa’s hands caressed the back of my head, however, surprisingly