Dwyane Vinson

Hidden Inside Dwyane Vinson

The sun was setting for the evening and the night was still young. A car pulled up to the gated community. The young lady driving was fierce and head strong. Afraid of little. Amazed by all the oversized homes, she carried on. "These people have way too much house," she thought. She pulled up to the keypad at the gate and punched in some numbers, she was in. She knew her mark and found his house immediately. Standing on his doorstep, she contemplated her next move. One shot through the front door and that should send the right message. This fight was not hers; it was for her friend Vlad. This was just a thought, so she contemplated on. She thought very carefully, but not for very long. She knew she needed to move and needed to do it fast. She entered the home through the basement window. She slid the glass open and dropped to the floor. The basement furniture was dirty as the years of kids playing had taken its toll. The pictures on the walls were that of an old western movie. Buffalo Bill and John Wayne to be exact. She looked on and took in the tired rustic style room. As painful as it was to look at, she decided she had enough, and it was time to find her mark. A man all up dressed in his matching pajama set. Blue silk, both top and bottom and buttoned clear to the neck. The very top button. He stood looking in the fridge as if he would wish something good to appear. As he looked on, slumped over the bottom shelf, she thought of slugging him in the back of his thighs and taking him down at that very moment. Of course, the timing was not right for this night, so she left, and he was spared to live another day. She went out the same way she came in and the man in the house knew no wiser. She was gone before he knew she was there. She was patient and may return.