Hey family! Check out the excerpt from my second novel titled The Prodigal Son. It's actually the sequel to Toward the Light which is my first release.
Aisha smiles as the plane touches down on the runway at the Richmond International Airport, in Richmond Virginia. It has been exactly five years since she’s been home. Though she hates New York today, as much as she did the first day she laid eyes on it, Aisha has to admit the experience has been good for her.
She’d finished high school and gone on to earn her Bachelors degree in Sociology, from New York University (NYU). Aisha graduated Magna Cum Laude. “Not bad for a girl from the projects,” she’d said to herself, the day she received her diploma.
Her application to the Virginia Commonwealth University’s (VCU) Department of Graduate Studies in Richmond has been accepted. Aisha plans to get a Master’s Degree in Social Work and find employment in her old stomp’n ground. Grabbing her bags after exiting the plane, she heads outside.
Not only has New York benefited Aisha academically, but has shaped her into a fine young woman. Gone are the braids that once framed her face. She now wears her hair in stylish African twists with an auburn tint, which give her cinnamon complexion a rosy hue.
She learned to apply make-up just right from the make-up artists in downtown Manhattan and Harlem. The talented women behind the various cosmetics counters in the stores which she frequented as often as possible had come to know her by name.
Aisha came away with a knack for applying her make-up to bring out her almond shaped eyes and plump lips. Along with her high cheek bones, these were her best facial assets.
Friends helped her learn to choose outfits that best accentuated her hour glass figure. The budding womanly body that left Richmond, came back fully developed. Today she wears a denim mini which shows off her curvy legs, with a white camisole. Still fond of going braless, she’s done the usual, her breasts firm beneath her shirt.
During her college years Aisha spent as much time as possible in the presence of her professors. She was determined to leave NYU with not only her degree, but a vocabulary to be envied by all. The time was well spent. Aisha can articulate the “King’s English”, as well as the local colloquialism of her communities with ease.
“Whew,” she said to herself as the southern heat engulfed her. “I forgot how hot it can get down here.”
“Baby girl!” someone shouts at her.
Aisha turns to find her uncle Ron standing there. “Uncle Ron!” she squeals, running and jumping into his arms as if she were five years old again.
“Whoa baby girl, your uncle Ron is 55 years young now.” He said enjoying every minute of Aisha’s excitement.
“Oh, Uncle Ron, I’ve missed you so much!”
“I missed you, too, baby girl. Seem like we was just gett’n close when you left.”
“I know . . .”
“Now don’t start cry’n on me,” he said noticing her tears, and wiping his own.
“I can’t help it. I’ve been gone so long . . .”
“I know, baby girl, but you back now. That’s all that matter. Yep, that’s all that matter.”