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Heirlooms
Desiree
Kendrick
©
Copyright 2019 by Desiree Kendrick
|
|
When
I sit in the brocade chair in my mother’s house, the obstacle
course of breakables that cluttered my childhood confronts me from
all corners of the room. My father filled his den with French
provincial furniture, reproduction paintings and delicate Royal
Doulton figurines. Grandeur. He was a formidable gentleman and the
room reflected his discernment. As a young child, I took tentative
steps in that room, hesitant to knock over a porcelain lamp or look
at a crystal vase the wrong way. My saucer eyes saw landmines. . . .
Junks and a Barquentine
Doug Sherr
©
Copyright 2019 by Doug Sherr
|
Barquentine Osprey in Hong Kong harbor, 1982.
Note junk in backgrount just to the left of Osprey. |
The
747 shuddered as
the landing gear and flaps deployed. We broke through the clouds into
a misty, gray day over Hong Kong. The window was fogged, but so was I
after 21 hours jammed in with more than 500 other people. The plane
banked sharply to starboard and I was looking at Mrs. Kwan’s
laundry drying on her balcony as we flew through Kowloon instead of
above it. The plane banked even more sharply to avoid smashing into
the hill just ahead as it slicked into Kai Tak, an airport that had
been built for biplanes not 747s. Even before the engines shut off
the smell of the city invaded the cabin joining the already stale air
of a day-long flight. The in-flight magazine said that Hong Kong, in
English, means fragrant harbor. Different cultures define fragrant
differently. . . .
More...
The Jump Rope
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2020 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
The
demands
of World War II required manufacturers to produce various products
which were purchased by the US government for exclusive use as troop
support. During those years, very few products were made for
children for use as toys. Adults too old for the draft who had any
skills in woodworking sometimes hand carved trucks or cars for the
neighborhood children. Others put packaging material and imagination
to good use. Jump ropes with wooden handles was a popular item, but
these were expensive and difficult to find. . . .
Shuri Castle
Chapter 19 from the unpublished book, Tomiko
Susan Fisher
as told to J. R. Nakken
©
Copyright 2020 by Susan Fisher
|
The throne room inside the Seiden (main hall) at Shuri Castle. |
Shuri
Castle. For 4 ½ centuries the royal court and administrative
center of the Ryukyu Kingdom. Constructed of wood and Ryukyuan
limestone as early as 1300 BC in the Gusuku period, as were so many
others of Okinawa’s castles, history first records it during
the Sanzan period (1322-1429.) When King Sho Hashi unified the three
principalities of Okinawa (Hokuzan, Chazan and Nanzan, the North,
Central and South Mountain entities) and established the Ryukyu
Kingdom, . . .
Dogs and Cats Love Story 2019
Luxhmee Jaypaul
©
Copyright 2019 by Luxhmee Jaypaul
|
 |
Vedika’s
love
affair with dogs and cats started since childhood and it is a family
heritage. We say dogs have a short lifespan. Since childhood I saw
countless dogs and cats died but I never gave up on loving these fur
animals. In fact, my love for them cross borders and is boundless. . . .
Outback Animal Conflict
John Sayles
©
Copyright 2019 by John Sayles
|
 |
Our small
fifteen-seater plane dropped down through the rain after the one-hour
flight from Brisbane to the lovely named town of Toowoomba. Our young
farming friend waited by her farm wagon to take us to their
Australian outback farm near the little town of Goondiwindi, situated
close to the Queensland & New South Wales border after a bone
jolting trip of over three
hours. . . .
More...
The
Circle Unbroken
(excerpt)
Nancy Massand
© Copyright
2019 by Nancy Massand
|
|
I
recognized Mama’s Place as soon as we got inside. It was that
den of vipers daddy had warned us about from the pulpit so many
times: dark and steamy, with men of questionable character lurking in
the shadows to lead the innocents astray. There was a strong, woodsy
smell, stronger than Birdie’s place, and the smoke made my eyes
sting. I must have been holding onto Harris’ hand pretty tight,
because he leaned down close to me so I could hear him over all the
noise. “You nervous, Mavis? Because we don’t have to stay
if you don’t want to.” He said it like he meant it, but I
knew he’d be really let down if I wanted to leave. And besides,
it wasn’t like I was just walking in there by myself asking for
trouble. Harris had pretty much told Jacob he’d die before he’d
let anything happen to me, and I believed him. . . .
Gold
FeverLooking For The Lost Dutchman
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
|
|
The
lure of gold has created a rich history in Arizona, with the elusive
Lost Dutchman Mine one of the top targets for
treasure-seekers.
Believed to be in the Superstition Wilderness, about 50 miles east of
Phoenix, generations of would-be prospectors have risked life and
limb with little or no return. No matter that the area has
been
closed to mineral prospecting for years now, they still come. . . .
Bric Dodd
Don Shook
©
Copyright 2019 by Don Shook
|
|
Head
football coach Bric Dodd was an elitist who never considered fielding
a “B” squad. But since there were enough boys who wanted
to play who weren’t big or fast enough to make the “A”
team but demonstrated reasonable potential, he changed his mind. Pete
and I weren’t big, but we were hitters; and being a hitter paid
big rewards if you wanted to gain Coach Dodd’s favor. He
rewarded us by starting us on the “B” team. . . .
A
Scorpion's Tale
Karen
Radford Treanor
©
Copyright
2019 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
Drawing (c) by Gerry Wild
|
This
is a slightly revamped and updated
version of a story from a book I wrote ten years ago, “A Tree
in Mundaring”, several chapters of which have already appeared
in Storyhouse. It was one of my less practical forays into
publishing—by the time I paid the artist, the paper supplier
for the snazzy 110 gsm paper and the faux parchment
covers,
and the printer, I just broke even. But it was a nice looking
book and very popular with my neighbour hills-dwellers, who could
relate to most of the stories. . . .
Street
Hustler
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
Every
large city has its share of street corner hustlers. This is the true
story of a man who stood one afternoon on a corner to sell his wares.
Many bought into the dreams he had for sale, and not one of us has
ever been the same again. . . .
A Day at the Game Park
Karen
Radford Treanor
©
Copyright
2019 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
|
My
husband has long held that birds are vicious, pointing out the
cruelty of barnyard chickens to support his idea. Not long after we
started working in Swaziland we had a chance to test this theory.
It
started with my suggestion that we take elder daughter Bethany for a
picnic at Mlilwane Game Reserve now that we had acquired a car. It
was a 12 horsepower Volkswagen, and it was a tough little vehicle. We
had forded rivers, driven cross country where there were no roads,
and carried loads of firewood with the dependable little beetle.
There’d be no problem taking it to Mlilwane Game Reserve,
which, like Swaziland itself, was small, neat, and had no dangerous
animals in it. Or so we were told. . . .
Humbled
Anne Organista
©
Copyright 2019 by Anne Organista
|
 |
Teaching
was not new to me. Neither was teaching ESL. But teaching English as
a second language to immigrants was a totally different ballgame. In
navigating this new arena where students’ quality of life
depended on their ability to speak, read and write English, I found
solace in this proverb, “We
can't
direct the wind but we can adjust the sails. . . ."
More...
The Sticker Weed Incident
Sara Etgen-Baker
©
Copyright 2019 by Sara Etgen-Baker
|
Sara age 11
|
This is a memoir and a true, biographical
account of a sticker
weed battle that took place at my elementary between a group of fifth
graders. Mrs. Parsons, one of our teachers, wasn't too keen
when she found me, the lone girl, amongst the fifth grade boys
throwing sticker weeds at one another. Likewise, my mother
wasn't too keen on Mrs. Parson's notion that I should serve detention
for participating in the sticker weed battle. A battle between Mrs.
Parsons and my mother ensued. . . .
To Oz? Yes, To Oz!
Sara Etgen-Baker
©
Copyright 2019 by Sara Etgen-Baker
|
Mother Winifred Christine Stainbrook-Etgen 1944
|
“To
Oz? Yes, to Oz!” is a memoir and a true, biographical account
of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. The story details my childhood
thoughts and reactions as I was forced to grow up and face the very
real danger of the Cold War and the Cuban Missile Crisis. . . .
Runt of the Litter
Sara Etgen-Baker
©
Copyright 2019 by Sara Etgen-Baker
|
Dave, Sara. Eddie and Fritz von Etgen. |
This
story is a memoir vignette and a true, biographical account of my
childhood pet Dachshund named Fritz von Etgen. Although Fritz
was the runt of the litter, he was a mischievous, lively
Dachshund
with a huge heart. He not only was my confidant but also was
my
best friend. . . .
More Than Wrapping Paper and Colored Bows
Sara Etgen-Baker
©
Copyright 2019 by Sara Etgen-Baker
|
 |
This is
a memoir and a true
biographical account of Christmas 1959—a tough season for my
parents financially.
During
that
season I learned that Christmas magic is powerful, but the power in
our hearts is even more magical. Our ability to love one another, to
renew our faith and bring hope into our lives and the lives of
others, are the greatest gifts to bestow and receive. . . .
Bampu and the Bear
Sahaj Sabharwal
©
Copyright 2018 by Sahaj Sabharwal
|
 |
Once upon a time, there
was a young, 12 years old boy, named Bampu . He was fond of wild
animals and had a visit to a zoo twice a week . He loved all the
animals and even take care of street dogs, cows and buffaloes. His
dream was to have a pet animal at his own
home too. . . .
More...
The Great Bat Hunt
Karen
Radford Treanor
©
Copyright
2019 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
|
New
England families abound in eccentric traditions, but I’ll lay
odds none can match our annual bat hunt.
When
I was a child, every summer without fail one or more bats would get
into the house, usually by falling down the chimney late at night. The
creature would eventually be run to earth and deported by the
only member of family who had the knack of chiroptera-nabbing—my
mother. . . .
The Mighty Mouse
Elizabeth Lloyd
©
Copyright 2019 by Elizabeth Lloyd
|
 |
The
Mighty Mouse is a story about youthful entrepreneurial adventures
and how one small creature can have a large impact on a many people.
. . .
More...
Unexpected Sunday Tourist
Lazarus Trubman
©
Copyright 2019 by Lazarus Trubman
|
 |
I was the only diner
in this tiny restaurant on the eastside of Chisinau, and the only
thing that irritated me was the mirror behind bottles. Every time I
looked up, I saw myself looking like a portrait of one of my own
ancestors: Lazarus Trubman, deep in thought, in a gilt frame. I had
circles under my eyes, a few scars on my face; apart from that I
looked alright for a man who survived four years as a political
prisoner in a Colony of Strict Regime in Northern Russia. . . .
The Healing Air of Freedom
Lazarus Trubman
©
Copyright 2019 by Lazarus Trubman
|
 |
Gorgeous
morning in the awakened city, fresh new green, the angled rays of the
sun glittering in spiders’ webs, birds twittering, the
fragrance of buds, grass drenched in dew, the air cool, bees hovering
around blossoming branches, Sunday, the tolling of a distant bell...
Spring in Chisinau!
It
had been months since I was liberated from the political prison in
Northern Russia. Behind me were dozens of blood transfusions,
restorative dental tortures, and scary talks with a cardiologist. I
had gotten my so-so bill of health and was waiting patiently for the
Soviet Immigration Office to approve my visa. . . .
Baikal
Lazarus Trubman
©
Copyright 2019 by Lazarus Trubman
|
 |
Travel
is my passion. I’ve been to many South American and European
countries, but my dream was always to visit Siberia. It couldn’t
be easily accomplished when I lived in the USSR. Things changed,
thank God, after 1985, and in 2008 my belletristic hope had been
finally fulfilled: I made the trip. It’s one of the most
amazing places on planet Earth! In 2012 I made another trip, and
since then I’ve written numerous short stories and essays. This
is one of them. . . .
The
1200 Days of Sister John Martin
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
(back row on ieft - Sister John
Martin, aka Kathryn Lynch)
|
Many
of us experimented with lifestyle alternatives when we were young. In
later life some freely discuss those experiences. Others bury the
memories deep into their core personalities, benefiting from lessons
learned, but never discussing them with others. This is the first time I have shared the story of my entrance into and exit
from religious life sixty years ago. . . .
The
Big C and Me - Part One
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
|
|
I am 81 years old, diagnosed with multiple myeloma, an incurable bone
plasma cancer, in June 2017, when I sneezed and broke two ribs. I
went on a “Chemo Lite” regimen, two sets of pills and a
weekly injection. The injection toxins caused neuropathy in my feet
and added a rare auditory neuropathy that muffles my hearing, so it
was discontinued after a few months. My hearing remains impaired and
my feet numb. . . .
|
MY
FAMILY’S IMMIGRANT EXPERIENCE: A DEPRESSION CHRISTMAS
John Cortesi
©
Copyright 2019 by John Cortesi
|
1904
photo of the saloon and pool hall in Radiant, Colorado. Four of the
men in the picture are great-uncles and cousins. |
My
father spent the years 1931-32 at his grandparents’ farm in the
Wet Mountains range of Colorado. He helped with chores and attended
the one-room, first to eighth grade, log cabin schoolhouse. My
great-grandparents were immigrants from Italy, Ottilia (Odorizzi) and
Enrico Menapace. Before buying the farm they owned and operated a
boarding house for Italian miners in Radiant, Colorado. Radiant had
79 houses plus a school, a company store, and the company-owned
saloon; the mine employed 125 men. . . .
A Successful Day
Laura Labno
©
Copyright 2019 by Laura Labno
|
 |
In
the light of the significance of love every other significance fades
away - This thought seemed significant to her.
It
was being played out, over and over again – She could hear it
in the sound of the Welsh rain hitting the bus windows, it was being
sung out by the melancholy of the grey street the bus was drifting
through, it was resounding in the sound of the rushing cars. It was
being played out by her own breath and by the sound of the bus she
was sitting in – Such a particular sound, the kind only buses
can give, of course – She laughed. . . .
West Coast Karma
Elizabeth Lloyd
©
Copyright 2019 by Elizabeth Lloyd
|
 |
This
is the story of a wish list vacation. Drive Pacific Coast
Highway. It had been attempted twice before. Both
times it fell apart. Now on the journey, we would be hit
with an unexpected derailment to our plan. No way to
foresee that Florence was quietly waiting with a karmic trap.
Instilling a new found perspective and life long lessons, and
possibly a meeting with Santa Claus. . . .
Dying
To Be Cool
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
Both of my
parents smoked.
Dad blended
well with other men of his times—with a hat on his head and a
lighted cigarette between his fingers. Refilling his lighter with
fluid became a weekly ceremony during which he could not be
interrupted. Delay during this endeavor was akin to a man sitting
down on his own hat--unacceptable. There was never any talk or plan
in place to reduce the number of his “smokes”, getting
rid of his “smokes”, or redirecting what later became
known as second hand smoke. . . .
The Guides
Deon Matzen
©
Copyright 2019 by Deon Matzen
|
 |
What
could we do when we had guests that wanted to see the sites and we
had to work? How would they get around when they didn’t speak
Chinese? We didn’t want them to have the tours that regular
Americans had when touring in China where they were kept in tow by a
“group leader” all wearing yellow or red or blue hats and
not allowed to really see Beijing, just the approved locations. We
settled on the perfect idea, use our students. . . .
Food
Fight
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
We
imagine a food fight with teenagers slinging food across the room at
each other, soiling each others' clothes, decorating the walls and
the lights, yelling, screaming, and laughing. This is the true story
of a food fight which took place between two adults in a closed
office, Not a bite of food changed hands. . . .
Mikey's Gift
Deon Matzen
©
Copyright 2019 by Deon Matzen
|
 |
Mikey
figured he was now pretty grown up. Last year, at Christmas, he had
finally figured out that Santa was really Dad and Mom. Now that he
knew the truth, he felt he had grown up, no longer a baby. It was OK
that it was Mom and Dad, but it did take some of the fun out of the
holiday. Now he knew that it was about giving and love, not the big
guy who just delivered presents once a year. . . .
Angela's
Children
How
the Communist Legacy Turned Against Itself
In
a Once-Strong Union
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
|
|
In
May 27, 1981, dozens of General Executive Board members of Warehouse
Union Local 6 of the International Longshore and Warehouse Union
gathered at the union's San Francisco office at 255 Ninth Street for
their monthly meeting. Standing in front of the South-of-Market
building drinking cans of beer were three Freitas brothers, Al, Sam
and Philip. All were members of the union; Al was a close ally of
East Bay Business Agent Roberto Flotte and had a history of union
tough-guy activity going back to Teamster efforts to intimidate
Salinas Valley farm workers in the early 1970s.
A
few minutes before 7 o'clock a car found street parking and five
Latino men, all Executive Board members, emerged, walking in a group
towards the union hall. The Freitas brothers attacked the five.
Philip Freitas knocked Lino Corral over a parked motorcycle. Lino
Corral pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired three times, hitting
Philip Freitas in the face and groin. The thirty-eight-year-old
Freitas fell dead, his blood spreading in a widening dark puddle on
the sidewalk in front of the union headquarters. . . .
More...
Shakespeare and the Zulu
Daniel Stantus
©
Copyright 2019 by Daniel Stantus
|
My house in Nsongweni. |
Recently,
I was browsing a Peace Corps website about the present living
conditions for volunteers in Eswatini a small country in southeastern
Africa. It was mainly nostalgia that brought me to this site. I was a
PC volunteer in Swaziland (recently renamed Eswatini) from 1970 to
1974. While most volunteers there today could expect to be living in
adequate housing with electricity, running water, and indoor
plumbing. However, in the more rural areas volunteers could still be
expected to live in more primitive conditions without the luxury of
these conveniences just as I did 50 years ago. . . .
|
The Man On The Train
A True Love Story
Sarah Byron
© Copyright 2019 by Sarah
Byron
|
|
This story is by the mother of
Valerie Byron, who is a member of our Winners Circle. Sarah is now
deceased but this fine story of her meeting with her true love will
live on. . . .
Thug Buster
How An Old Lady Restored
Peace And Quiet To Her Town
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
Neighbors were shocked and
outraged when someone shot
the 82 year old man in the head and left him bleeding to death on the
floor of his own home. It was generally believed to be the work of
street punks since his TV and music system had gone missing at the
same time The old man was well known locally for his family had
lived for two or three generations in the town. He had raised two
sons and a daughter there, outliving his spouse, growing old
exchanging pleasantries with the locals. Friends said that he had no
enemies and that he was unlikely to badmouth or speak negatively
about anyone. . . .
|
Hangin'
Carol Arvo
© Copyright 2019 by Carol Arvo
|
|
Everyone
has a
“bucket list,” whether they realize and acknowledge it or
not. It might just be a nagging feeling in the subconscious, or it
might be right out there for all to see, but it’s there. Mine
was right out there for 20 years. Everyone knew I loved to
fly.
It was finally time to check this one off of my “bucket list. . . .”
The Times, They Are A-Changin'
Judith Nakken
©
Copyright 2019 by Judith Nakken
|
 |
I
was unhappy with the change in discounts for seniors, and initially
polite as I could be at the Customer Disservice counter. “These
new rebates are really niggardly,” I said, and didn’t
continue because of the look of shock rapidly turning to hatred on
her Caucasian face. “Oh, wait,” I tried to explain since
I know too well that today’s under-40’s have little
knowledge of the English language. . . .
Magic Broom
Elizabeth Lloyd
©
Copyright 2019 by Elizabeth Lloyd
|
 |
. . . .Glancing
back at the house, no mother in sight, the rule attempted itself one
last time. Stepping
out into the alley, I held my breath and waited for a scolding. It did not
come. The
rule was completely gone now. Each
step toward my destination brought reassurance that, yes, this treasure
could indeed be retrieved. . . .
A
Cultural Awakening in Swaziland
Daniel Stantus
©
Copyright 2019 by Daniel Stantus
|
 |
I
was a Peace Corps Volunteer from 1970 to 1974. It was a dream come
true for me ever since my hero John F. Kennedy introduced the program
in the early 60’s. The thought of travel to a foreign country,
living and working with the people, and raising the standards of
living for a third world people was so appealing to me. I came from a
family that had barely travelled to the next State, let alone
overseas. In fact I had never even been in a plane before. . . .
The
Lady Who Wears Dead Foxes
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
In 1970, I
had already been a fourth grade teacher for several years. Armed
with a Lifetime Teaching Certificate, I had decided on a four
year nighttime endeavor, entering the University |of San Francisco
School of Law program. I resolved that during the day, my teaching
efforts would not be degraded or curtailed because my primary
responsibility remained to the 43 fourth graders in my
class. This was before Teacher's Aids, teacher prep time or any form
of assistance was available. . . .
Topanga Canyon Fire
Doug Sherr
©
Copyright 2019 by Doug Sherr
|
 |
Topanga
Canyon connects the Pacific Ocean to the San Fernando Valley, where
the Valley Girls roamed. The Santa Monica Mountains rise to the east
and hills that stretch to Malibu define the western side. Water
trickles down the creek bed providing enough moisture for a variety
of mature trees and bushes that keep the canyon cool on desert-hot
summer days. In the midst of the urban horror of LA, the canyon is a
rural outpost that mixes the best of Appalachia and Carmel: In the
early 1970s, impoverished hippie artists of great talent lived in
shacks and raised goats next door to famous rock and roll musicians
and actors who argued with their agents while drinking goat’s
milk. Charlie Manson’s first murder happened on Old Topanga
Canyon Boulevard and Will Geer, Grandpa on the Waltons, had an
outdoor Shakespearean theater, Theatricum Botanicum, at the other end
of the canyon. . . .
More...
If You Ever Feel Like Giving Up--Keep Going
Kelly Maida
©
Copyright 2019 by Kelly Maida
|
 |
I
was inspired to write this because sometimes it seems
like there is not a light at the end of a tunnel and that we
sometimes quit right before we get to that light! . . .
|
Apology to a Blog
Kay
Harper
©
Copyright 2019 by Kay Harper
|
Photo (c) 2019 by Kay Harper.
|
It's
rare, I know, but think I owe my blog an apology. I’ve been so
caught up in “Encouragin’
Words,” my daily
devotional on Facebook, that I had been ignoring this blog. There
appears to be only so much of me to go around, but
from now on I plan to carve out time for this “God Is Big”
blog, as well for as my other writing. . . .
A Story for My Father
Eileen W. Fisher
©
Copyright 2019 by Eileen W. Fisher
|
 |
My
father always wanted to be a writer, but that was not practical. By
the time I was in fourth grade, I decided that I was going to fulfill
his dream.
My
mother called him Natie, he called himself Nat; his nickname was
Nissel. I called him Daddy. . .
More...
Summer of David
Elizabeth Lloyd
©
Copyright 2019 by Elizabeth Lloyd
|
 |
This is a true story. However
when sitting down to
write it, the only way to alleviate the writer’s block that was
happening was to change the names in the story. It was easier
to write it in the third person rather than insert myself into the
story again. . . .
Hunger
Kathryn
Lynch
©
Copyright 2019 by Kathryn Lynch
|
|
This is a
story about hunger which is never relieved, never goes away no matter
what advantages persons might achieve by the single minded pursuit of
the American dream. It is a true story, a sad story, one which made
me realize how lucky I was to call this country home. All of the
participants in this story have now died except for the author. Let
this telling honor them. . .
This is a
story about my Dad and Mom encountering
a Jewish person for the
first time. In the post Second World War era, Jews were any persons
of Jewish ethnicity no matter where they were located, and any
persons who espoused the Jewish Faith whether born into it or
converted to it. Andy Bageson may not have been the best
example of a
Jew, but he was the first Jew I ever knew with all his virtues and
all his flaws. . . .
Illumination
Laura Labno
©
Copyright 2019 by Laura Labno
|
 |
Sarah
was drawing at
her desk when suddenly one thought became very prominent in her mind.
An illuminated memory – Snails.
This
one day, a large amount of earth circulations ago, in a small poor
city, in even smaller and poorer neighbourhood she and her friend
were playing. They’ve collected an impressive amount of snails
and put them into a box. The idea was to open a Snail School. A Card
Box Primary Snail School. . . .
More...
Advice To My Daughters
Kelly Maida
©
Copyright 2019 by Kelly Maida
|
|
As
a survivor of domestic violence and I have been through both physical
and emotional abuse, I would never want anyone to go through what I
experienced. If I can help in anyway I would like to try. Today I was
sending my daughters a message and It inspired me to write this. . . .
The Saga of Pretty Boy Floyd
Isabel
Bearman Bucher
©
Copyright 2019
by Isabel
Bearman Bucher
|
|
My
retired husband, Robert, is want to go to garage sales. Over
the years he’s come home with a few treasures, but more often
than not, the objects are real pitch-out dogs. When he’s
forgotten about them, I usually toss them into the garbage or the
give-away pile. One year, he came home with Pretty Boy Floyd,
an American, three-toed box turtle, for which he paid the
handsome sum of five
bucks. The
turtle really was a beauty; ergo his name.
Brilliant
orange spots that resembled Halloween candy corn, flamed up
his
legs and was matched by clear blazing orange eyes. Holding
him,
he let you scratch his head, while his legs went like windmills. A
week later, he got sick. . . .
The Kaiser's Brooch
Helene Munson
©
Copyright 2019 by Helene Munson
|
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The
Kaiser’s Brooch is what I have been told about my
great-grandmother Marie Sophie Schmiede by my grandmother,
supplemented by my knowledge of German history and carefully
researched historical facts (Everything from the name of the Rabbi to
the Tzar’s children having measles is true.) My short story is
aimed at not just preserving a piece of family history but also
giving the reader an understanding of what lead up to Germany’s
disastrous 20th century history, weaving it into the story about my
great grandmother…and yes… I own the Kaiser’s
Brooch. . . .
More...
My
First Theatre Experience
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
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I
love the theatre. I’ve been able over my eight decades to see
lots of plays, from street performers to first-class houses in New
York, London, San Francisco, and now, Tucson. I didn’t grow up
with theatre in my life. As a street kid on New York’s Lower
East Side the thee-A-ter was something uptowners with money did and
they did it uptown. We made do with the fourth-run Stuyvesant movie
house on Second Avenue, around the corner from twelth
Street
where I lived and across the street from the corner candy store where
we hung out, sipping sodas and playing the jukebox. . . .
Colorado
Memoir
Robert Flournoy
©
Copyright
2019 by Robert Flournoy
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When I left the army in 1973 I headed to
Colorado to see
if some dreams could come true. I had been in love with the
mere thought of the Rocky Mountains since boyhood and could not wait
to get there. Colorado Springs was small then, Denver half
the
size it is today, its yellow dome not yet a significant trade
mark.
I bought a home in the shadow of Pike's Peak and could access a dozen
pristine trout streams in the foothills close to my house that were
full of fish. . . .
