4Pov Sample
how’s this working I’m going to do two rounds of 4POV
I don’t hide. Nope. Nevah have. I dawdle the darkest corners, where nightmares only fade when you sleep. Type of place full of sharks and you bring yo’ lifejacket ‘cause all you worry ‘bout - drownin’.
Low hangin’ fruit, just ripe fo’ the pickin’. Thass’ how I see it, Benny pass me a light brotha’
“Hold up Paszer, it’s somewhurr’ hurr.” Man. this dude. Over hurr’, loss his dayum mind. He out hurr’ in da same raggedy ass clothes from lass’ week. Dayum lint. Whurr’ da hell this lighter at. “Who dat down thurr’ dat John-boy?” Paszer shrugging, holdin’ dat cig’rette like God goin’ light it. I’m purr’ surr’ thurr’ Bo, “John—John-boy” I sent a holla’ thurr’, he’s hollerin’ sumpin’, “I can’t hear em’, you-herrim’ Pasz?” Paszer shakes his head. I throw a hand-wave gesture up to follow my direction.
“John-Bo, he can’t hear you, let’s go see what these guys want.”
We press further in and I swear I can see Paszer. I notice my buddy, John, “Bo” pause in his step, as my heart takes it for him. Paszer’s the only person I know whose eyes chill the sticky, South Carolina heat, ice cold. I shiver the chill off, reach for my phone and tell Bo I’ll be back.
“Dude. What? Wow.” Casey is always doing this to me, every time. awe, hell, I see Paszer standing next to Benny—damnit. You think they would throw him in a hole and leave him there. An assaulting odor of shit and piss, or probably is just dirty laundry, mixed in poor hygiene, strong enough to linger in my lungs from ten feet away.