Now that Alfred Harrell, my chosen narrator has spoken by means of SPLIT Souls In Transition I will begin to continue bleeding my story through his pen and voice because many of us are split souls, living as one, in constant transition within the time portal.
According to what I was told by Ms. Delzora, the lady who raised me from my infancy, I was buried alive after my birth in a tree covered field between a fence made of scrap lumber and a holy place. My bloodline grandmother left my tiny body for a short while in a shallow grave and until a small piece of a conscious pricked what was left of her wounded heart caused her to retrieve me, sparing my life. This is how I ended up living with Ms. Delzora who for a better choice of words was a practitioner of Christianity blended with African spirituality.
