With a soft wusssh the sliding doors opened and August walked in. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt that said thirteen going on thirty in bold, black lettering and a fitted baseball cap rested obliquely on his head. Passing through the door, August quickly made his way to the line at the teller. He stood behind a young child, a little boy to be exact, who was tugging anxiously on the long sleeves of his mom’s brown coat. Above him, a generic song was dancing sinuously out of the small speakers that hung like languorous willow branches in the corners of the high ceiling.

I could see his nervous, narrow eyes jutting quickly from person to person, as he stood there and finally he settled his attention on the security guard. Who sat lazily in a chair as his nightstick clinked on the tiled floor like a sack of old potatoes. The man was just passing through middle age, with a graying, thin head of hair that looked like an old fraying tennis ball. He seemed harmless as he rested with his black cap turned down just above his eyes, while his fingers danced on his black belt, in unison with the music that poured forth from the speakers. I noticed a smile inch across August’s face as he watched this old man; it was his lucky day he must have thought. The smile didn’t last long though as that young kid who had been pulling on his mother’s long sleeve nudged him in the side. It was an accident or at least that is how I saw it.

“That’s a strange shirt to be wearing mister,” the child said, eyeing the bold, black lettering after nudging him in the side.
“Are you saying that you don’t like it?”
“It’s funny.”
“Now you’re just saying that.”
“No it is, strange though, looks like something this one kid wears in my class, he eats glue, no one likes him, even my teacher, Mrs. Outlander.”
“I was going for flair, you know panache, to be honest.”
“Flair, panache?”
“Nothing, listen, I’m trying to stay young, this is a bit of advice to remember after you get through all of this” said August as the child’s mother returned from the teller with a receipt in her hand and placed her arms carefully around her son’s slight shoulders.
“After all of what?” The child asked him, before attempting to wiggle free from his mom’s protective arms.
“Is he bothering you, he gets like this when he misses his Saturday morning cartoons?” She asked with a laugh.
“No, not at all, he’s just being a kid,” August said and he dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled a small, black pistol out like a man dipping a ladle into a bowl of soup as he made his way to the teller. The gun was a tremor in his hand and with a sudden crash he let loose a horrible yell as he brought his hand down upon the window of the teller. The teller was a small, middle-aged woman with glasses that hung like a dangling mountain climber, on the edge of her nose. August was demanding money, large sums of money. Meanwhile, the child and his mother quietly made their way to the door as the child wished he could be in class, eating glue.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the old man was asking, he had lifted his cap after hearing the crash at the teller’s window.
“Problem, problem, the man has a gun, he’s demanding money, he’s pointing it right at me, this is very much a problem” the middle aged woman yelled as she looked at August.
“A robbery?”
“Yes, a robbery.”
“Fifteen years I’ve sat here and never have I been involved in something like this, it’s about time,” the guard said excitedly.
I could tell she was scared as she gazed back through the glass at August and at his black pistol that shook like a wounded animal at her. With his free hand August motioned for me to get the car ready and as I walked back through the wussshing sliding doors I heard a gunshot and the splintering of glass and a muffled yell. With a shudder, I set the car in drive and August, resembling a faint blur as he ran through the sliding doors, yanked the passenger door open. He was as pale as white bed sheets as he jumped in and quickly, he tossed a bag into the back. With his eyes big and intense, he shouted, “I messed up Nathan, I really messed up man, floor it” and the two of us lurched forward just before the cry of sirens arrived.
“What did you do,” I asked him.
“I don’t know man, it all happened so fast.”
“You don’t know, how do you not know.”
“I think I shot….”
“Shot who,” I asked, “who did you shoot August.”

“So that’s all you know then?”
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s all I know, after I asked him again, I ran into the phone booth and then you guys arrived and ripped us out of the car.”
The detective looked up, walked back to his partner, and whispered something into his ear.
“It seems that the security guard fired a shot at August but missed him and instead hit the kid in the chest, and it doesn’t look good for the kid,” the detective said.

I can feel a loss a coming !
you cant do this to me she was once to say.
Damned if i let any man get in my way
If i told you once i told you again
If you dont come with love
you will never get in

I can feel a loss a coming !
you cant see my view because
you havent hit the floor running
First step out in the real world once taken
Broken by the chain of events your soul has been shaken

You cant do this to me she was to say
im sorry baby but i just dont see life your way
Your eyes are blue and mine
are shaded by a touch of green
you cant mistake the spaces between
the power and the ones with Pristine!
No man would pass to hold her,
yet try to destroy all for that she dreams

I can feel a loss AHH comin!
starving together just to watch it eat me alive where i stand
Forcing the truth to come out yet
with out one word or the helping hands
I made a mistake and you just have to know
I can feel a loss acoming
and im not the one you want nor the one
You want to know !

BABY NOT A WOMAN
NOT A PRAYER FOR THE MAN
SHE WAS BORN TO SPREAD LOVE
YET SHE LIVES IN SIN.