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The Letter and The Card.... by Black Ice.... He woke with a start. ' Damn' he said as he through back the covers and scooted to the edge of the bed to get up. He went into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked deep into his own eyes and said ' OK Mike that's enough of this shit, you know better than this'. He reached in, turned on the shower, check the temperature and got in...... The cold water felt like little rocks peppering his skin but it had the desired affect. He was asshole naked freezing, shaking but now also fully awake and determined to put this business behind him once and for all. He climbed out of the shower, toweled himself off and put on his robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. As he was leaving the bathroom he took a long look at himself. He nodded to himself and said out loud 'OK Mike lets do this'. It was 2:53 in the morning....... He entered his study, sat down at his desk and sighed. He said to the empty room ' I know how to handle this shit, the same way I always do. I'm going to write your ass right out of my life'. Then he added more softly ' and out of my heart'. He didn't turn to his computer that sat on his desk in a corner but instead reached for his bottom drawer opened it and grabbed some notebook paper and a pen and began to write..... 'I wish to God I had never met you. You should have never come into my life. I curse that day that you touched me. I could have pretended I was happy until then'....... 'Several states away. A lone, tear filled figure sat with his back against a brick wall in a dimly lit alley somewhere close to nowhere. A 32caliber smith an wesson in his right hand and in his left, a small business card that he was talking to as if it was the person who gave it to him over a month before. The card and gun moved in a macabre dance as the holder of both, with spittle flying and face contorted, continued to rant.... 'What the fuck is wrong wit you nigga, you shoulda been wit me nigga. I wouldna fucked up yo shit nigga. I know how we do dis shit nigga. I don't give a fuck about dem bitches nigga. sheed nigga we couldda fucked dem hoes together nigga. I don't care about yo bitch nigga. My shit on point nigga, how dem hoes gonna know. Fuck dem hoes. What can dem bitches really do for you nigga da ain't shit. All you had to do is give me a chance mah-fucka. I don't care about who else you fuck nigga. Ok, iight, maybe a little. But as long as it was sent no other nigga I wouldn't give a fuck. But now, look at this dis shit, here we go again wit da same old shit Mr. high and mother fucking mighty. I otta blow yo muther fuckin dome piece off bitch!'.... He pointed the gun at the card menacingly. 'What the fuck you gonna do now bitch. You feel bulletproof nigga? Huh? What the fuck you gonna do now mah-fucker'.... Feeling a surge of rage he flung the card away from him screaming 'Fuck You Nigga, Fuck You' at that, he leaped into the air and stomped at the card, again and again he stomped and stomped and stomped. Still enraged, he continued to screen but this time his screams where punctuated by gun shoots ' Fuck You Nigga' BANG 'FUCK YOU' BANG, BANG ' WHAT NIGGA' BANG' HUH NIGGA' BANG. After firing the last shot he panicked. OH NO. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!! ' Baby I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!! Tossing the gun away from him he dove for the card.... Oh please, oh please, oh please baby be ok!! On his knees he picked up the card and held it as if was a very small child. He examined it. It was battered and torn and most of the lettering was all but a faded memory but it could still be read, barley. He chuckled to himself, ' you must really think yo ass is bulletproof huh nigga, you see this shit nigga, you making me crazy nigga I could have killed you nigga'. He had missed, all 5 shots... With a strange mixture of insanity and compassion amid the flow of tears and a touch of laughter he kissed the card as if it was the final good-bye of a deeply loved and dieing friend, and, maybe it was. Finally, he cried himself out.... He gathered himself together and said. ' It's time my nigga, it's time to let this shit go. I can't go through this shit no mo man. I don't know why I love yo ass so much mah-fucking much but I can't do dis shit no muh-fuckin mo nigga. I will not live with out you. I got a good mind to call yo ass up anyway just so you know that you lost the best thing that could have ever happen to you, just so you can here my shit nigga. Hell yeah.' He paused.... Some where in the back of his mind it began to dawn on him that he had never called the number on the card despite the desperate insistence of the guy who gave him the card. He though for a few seconds more and said in a warm and forgiving tone ' Nah nigga, you don't deserve it'... And with that he crawled over to where the gun had landed, picked it up cocked it, put it to his head and pulled the trigger.