Each week a new segment will be published on this page from Bonita's novelette, The Reflection Pool.

The warmth of the pool’s water had no affect on the intense feeling the couple already felt for each other. They were finally enjoying a few stolen moments after years of separation. She lay on his back as he swam the length of the pool, the water flowing swiftly over her body. He gently nudged her, and she carefully turned onto her stomach. Clinging to his shoulders, he took her under as he swam deeper into the warmth of the pool’s water.

Khalon expertly circled the pool underwater, feeling his strength increase with each stroke. He mentally compared himself to Atlas; but instead of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he willingly carried the weight of one woman

He loved her for all the reasons why a man was created to love. Adyn was pure and generous in her love for him. She did not perceive him like the other women he met who surrounded him in normal activities or at his book signings. She was not impressed with his author persona, his towering height, his velvety chocolate skin, or the thickness of his dreads. Her awareness pierced directly to his soul, attacking his fears, and finding comfort in his vulnerability. She deftly uncovered Khalon Imbers -　- the man. The man who exploited the world he lived in as backdrop for his books. His books brought to life the glorified thug mentality of stepping on the necks, or climbing into beds to get ahead, places where none of his characters rode off into the sunset laces where pages of nursery rhymes were used to fill the cracks in the windows to ward off the winter winds. He knew that people like Adyn had no place in his world. She had no hidden agenda, unlike the women in his life or in his past. In his past, everyone did what they did to get where they needed to be. It was the norm and he was happy until he found himself behind bars. His street creed was legendary once he became a DOC number.

* * * *

The warmth of the pool’s water washed away the loneliness she once felt. The greatness of her literary accomplishments never surpassed the weight of her loss. This burden lead her to avoid any type of serious relationship, or even the exploration of any relationship really. She found solace in a few short-lived romances, which made her relish creating controllable situations within her books. On her books, she made what should happen, happen. In her books, wrongs were made right and no one died.

Adyn’s writing flowed from a fountain of untapped womanly powers. She stepped away from meaningless relationships to nurture her characters. Her contemporary romance novels sold well. She was a successful author, but considered herself to be a writing missionary -　- a person who found fulfillment in sharing her love for the written word and literature with others.

She called one such venture, “Writing Awake Workshop/” It was mostly geared to what society deemed the underprivileged population. When added to hear earnings from other writing conferences and her book royalties, the workshop provided a decent income for her. She would have worked the venture anyway because the intent behind the workshop was to reach those who did not know how to tell the story that they felt needed to be told -　- their story.

She received a workshop request from the local correctional facility where her husband once volunteered. The prison board wanted her to spearhead a three-week writing workshop for male prisoners. She initially thought that the request might be better suited for someone else. There were too many reminders behind those walls for her to face. She thought long and hard before deciding that Omar, her beloved, deceased husband, would have encouraged her to do the workshop. He always said that everyone deserved a chance to change directions in life, and she could hear his voice saying to her: who are you to deny anyone this opportunity? Besides, she thought, there is a new wave of urban authors emerging from behind bars and, if she could just get them to use a comma and spell check it, wouldn’t it be well worth it?

She didn’t know, however, that this particular workshop would change her life. It was her introduction to Khalon Imbers.

* * * *

When he was sentenced eight years ago, he gave his family and friends the speech that was standard for all convicts to give:

Do not stop living because he is locked up;

Do what you must to feed and satisfy the family’s needs;

Drop a few dollars into his jail kitty so that he could by essentials at the canteen;

Write to him and come see him as they could.

They all replied with standard responses that they meant at the time, and promised to be waiting when he got out. He knew some would and others wouldn’t, but it was the hand he dealt himself and he would deal with it. Hustling drugs wasn’t going to last forever, it caught up to him and now his primary focus was to do his time, get out unscathed and, maybe, get out earlier than sentenced if he stayed out of trouble.

He wrote a lot of letters during the majority of his time -　- just to keep in touch with the outside world. Most of the letters were of nothing in particular to no one in particular. They were mainly reflections of his past to his daughter. He hoped not to pass on the sins of the father to her.

One night, one of those letters turned into a story. Each night, his writing turned in a new direction, and his story unfolded into chapters. He subsequently began to spend a lot of time in the prison library or on the computer researching and looking for a published. Khalon’s counselor noticed his activities, and suggested that he attend a writing workshop that the prison was soon offering. Khalon agreed to think about it, and thought it might give him some quick lessons or tips in telling his story. He did not know, however, that he was about to meet someone who would change his life.