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Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2019 by Dale Fehringer
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My cousin Bob was a
year older than me, so he might have been eight (which would make me
seven) when we first became cowboys. It was summer,
and I
can still remember the warmth of the sun on us as we rode horseback
through the wheat fields. That must have been around
1958
or 1959. . . .
More...
A Trip To Heaven
Solange Moreira
©
Copyright 2019 by Solange Moreira
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Bahia
is located in the northeast of Brazil. Its sun shines bright in the
afternoons when women are hanging clothes outside, but always
retreats in the nights when it's time to enjoy warm stories told in
the dark. It was a hot day of July when I arrived in the state to
celebrate its day of independence. . . .
More...
Letting My Hair Down
Musfira Shaffi
©
Copyright 2019 by Musfira
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The
phrase “stiff upper lip” did not apply to me as much as
“hairy upper lip” did. All my life, I have been top-notch
in the hair department, starting from the ebony ringlets that framed
my brown cherub-like baby face, to the patches of soft tuft that
started appearing underneath my armpits before any of my peers to
signal oncoming womanhood. . . .
What A Wonderful Save
Ketina Muringaniza
©
Copyright 2019 by Ketina Muringaniza
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This
is a story of how throughout my life I was inhibited by numerous
health problems which emerged each time a new developmental stage was
reach blocking any academic, financial and economic progress. They
took various form until I was drastically immobilized, living
precariously on a very tight rope being given a very short
life
span and having lost all hope in life. From the blue on June 3, 2015,
a junior doctor revealed the major cause of my health problems.
Totally collapsed hips needing total hip replacements! How could I
survive such major operations when I was suffering from acute heart
failure? Where the intelligence and powers of man fail to operate,
God will indeed take over! . . .
Walking
the New Jersey Wilderness
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
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Recently
a friend returned to Tucson from visiting a daughter in southwest New
Jersey. That reminded me of the many days I had spent in the South
Jersey Pine Barrens, an improbable wild place smack in the middle of
the New York-Baltimore/Washington-Philadelphia megalopolis. And of
when, in 1970, I had hiked by myself some 77 miles, exploring ghost
towns, touching civilization only by choice. . . .
Malta
A World Unto Its Own
Diane Robinson
©
Copyright 2019 by Diane Robinson
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A
trip scouting film locations became a love affair with an island that
will beckon me to return, time and time again.
I'll
happily be
returning to Malta many times as we prepare to film our independent
movie there. This is my account of my first visit last year; which
took my breath away with each new place we explored. As much
as
I love being on any island (as a sailor, I’ve sailed around
many!), I never expected this island to capture my heart and my
imagination the way it did.
The
Universe never stops surprising me. . . .
More...
Epiphany
Diane Robinson
©
Copyright 2019 by Diane Robinson
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This
is a true story. The initial experience I open with became the
physical verification and springboard on how I looked at, and dealt
with, everything life had in store for me. Belief is accepting the
unseen, until it becomes that which you can see before you. Early on,
I was given an opportunity to actually see the unseen. For me at that
point, “having faith” had already been proved —
and yet as a mortal, the lifetime work continues! . . .
One
Hot Summer Day: A Blazing Fire Takes The Stage
Lane Dooling
©
Copyright 2019 by Lane Dooling
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Lane
thought the first day of summer vacation back in 1976 was going to
fun and relaxing…little did she know by the end of the day she
would be both witness and participant to a community emergency…and
the surprising outcome! . . .
Mishi, My Flying Cat
Monica Wenzel
©
Copyright 2019 by Monica Wenzel
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My
first professional job out of college was teaching English to high
schoolers in rural Ecuador. I met many friends of all ages. One
friend I didn't expect was a white and gray kitten who I took into my
home and my heart. Naturally, when I returned to Minnesota, I didn't
want to leave Mishi. Getting her home turned out to be an adventure
or her and for me. . . .
More...
How To Reboot
Amy DeMatt
©
Copyright 2019 by Amy DeMatt
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Every
year we take a summer vacation. It reminds me that my daily job,
while useful and generally fulfilling, is just a small piece of the
mosaic that is life. The rest of it: my love of running and fresh
air, of that good tired feeling when I’ve exerted myself,
bonding with my family, also makes up the mosaic. When we vacation,
I try to “reboot,” that is, see things with fresh eyes,
with renewed curiosity, and to experience things with all my senses. . . .
A Tourist's Guide To Yesan
Caitlyn Ng Man
Chuen
©
Copyright 2019 by Caitlyn Ng Man Chuen
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. . .“Yesan
is cute,” says the foreign teacher coordinator. Cue her shrug
and a pair of downturned lips, arching toward her chin not in a frown
but in a way that says it’s not so bad or is
has its
charms. Offered to you on a platter like a plate of soggy
pancakes. But pancakes are pancakes and covered with enough syrup,
it’s hard to tell good from bad. Positive thinking.
Later
that day, you do some research on Yesan County.
The
official bird is a stork and the flower is the golden-bell tree. It
is a certified ‘slow city,’ meaning it’s a place
meant to act as a connection to nature and a respite from the
fast-paced lifestyle of the Korean metropolis. It’s known as
the apple capital of Korea and every autumn, there’s a festival
to celebrate the harvest. . . .
More...
The Woman of Apollo
Liz Star
©
Copyright 2019 by Liz Star
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What
legacy will we leave behind? What metrics mark the depth and
length of our lifetime footprint?
The
year was 2005, and I was supposed to graduate from college.
Hotels
were booked for family celebrations. Dinner reservations were made.
Caps were decorated. Gowns rented.
Instead
of planning for graduation, I took my newly acquired Eurail pass and
planned for a summer abroad. Instead of joining the fray of
celebratory dinners, frenetic job applications, and a furniture
purge, I packed a borrowed bag and printed my itineraries. . . .
More...
Adventure in Nepal
Dee Canfield
©
Copyright 2019 by Dee Canfield
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The
cable car came to a complete stop and we were dangling over a deep
green mountain valley in Nepal, almost 4,000 feet below. “We
are stuck”
Bhim, my
Nepali guide told me. “Don’t
worry”
he said. “They
will fix it soon.”
I had arrived
in the country in the season of Dashain, the 15-day Hindu religious
holiday, and we had just come from visiting the Manakamana Temple on
the mountaintop, where prayers and incense had been offered during
the sacrifices of goats that had taken place. Besides Bhim and
myself, there were two other men in the car. One of them was holding
a plastic bag, from which a few drops of blood slowly dripped onto
the floor, a remnant of an earlier sacrifice. . . .
More...
Serenity and Scandal in Scandinavia
Joseph Pravda
©
Copyright 2019 by Joseph Pravda
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Summer,
1971, and we were in that part of Europe known to most Americans via
Saab, or Volvo; even fewer by way of some very masterly painters.
We
came to know it through the seemingly unconnected phenomena as Wilt
Chamberlin, The Nordisk Museet, the world’s oldest amusement
park, ‘Baaken’, Hamlet (okay, his statue) and a holocaust
survivor.
My
bride of one year and I had decided to go, for an indefinite period,
perhaps to escape the impending responsibilities of my (legal)
career, her motherhood and, well, parents. . . .
The Looking Glass
John Sayles
©
Copyright 2019 by John Sayles
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. . .Reflections can be used to mark the passage of time. . . . Next time you’re
in a busy shopping street take a minute to watch the reaction of
people passing many a shop window, a touch of the hair, a smile,
adjustment of a hat or tie. Most people seem to enjoy what they see
reflected, be it a looking glass, mirror or some other form of
reflection. . . .
A 1962 Journey of the Cold War
John Sayles
©
Copyright 2019 by John Sayles
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A young geography teacher’s first field trip as party leader of
13 senior boys and fourteen friends and colleagues. Two years in
planning a geographical holiday with much bureaucratic form
filling for travel permits to Russia at a time of political
unrest known as the ‘Cold War’. . . .
Turkish Delight
Brittany Rohm
©
Copyright 2019 by Brittany Rohm
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After
trekking around Petra for ten hours under the scorching Jordanian
sun, my cousin Elena and I were eager to relax at a Turkish bath.
Although widespread in the Islamic world, the only examples we had
seen were at archeological ruins like Jerash and Beit She’an.
With tired bodies but inquisitive minds, we were excited to
experience a modern take on the days of yore.
For
half the cost of a massage in the States, our hostel owner booked us
each a ninety-minute package at Al Yakhor. Made from stone, the
outside of the building appeared not unlike some of the temples we
had seen earlier that day. How authentic, I
thought, gazing at
the entrance. This is going to be great. . . .
Getting Ones Goat
Elana Renata
©
Copyright 2019 by Elana Renata
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I was biking up a long, razor-thin,
hair-pinned turn in
central Ireland on my way to Kilkenny and the youth hostel nestled in
the “Kilkenny Mountains”, named such by the locals.
They were merely large hills to my American eyes accustomed to ranges
the likes of the Rocky Mountains. Nevertheless, they were
steep
enough to cause me to come to a wobbly stop at the aforementioned
hill. . . .
More...
Air Adventure
Douglas Holub
©
Copyright 2019 by Douglas Holub
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Did
I ever tell you about the time my single engine airplane started
sputtering while my wife and I were at 10,000 feet over the Rocky
Mountains? No? It’s a pretty good story. . . .
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Should We Be Grateful?
Wilson Iyorah
©
Copyright 2019 by Wilaon Iyorah
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This essay emphasizes the need
to be grateful at all time.
It discusses the great benefits practicing gratefulness at all times....
Yesterday in Swaziland
Charleine Sell
©
Copyright 2019 by Charleine Sell
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I
stared at the decapitated head of a pig lying on the table in front
of me. Its stubby chin, dead eyes and apple clenched in its sharp,
yellow teeth made me all but certain I would vomit on my wedding
dress.
Jack’s
bachelor party the night before was reported to be a success, but our
friend Gene, my prearranged chauffeur and also our best man, was hung
over and overslept on My Big Day. . . .
More...
The Foot of Time
Isabel
Bearman Bucher
©
Copyright 2019
by Isabel
Bearman Bucher
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“We’re
getting a dividend from some investments,” my husband, Bob,
stated one afternoon, opening a letter.
“So
what are we talking about,” I responded, leaning over a pot of
spaghetti sauce.
“Two
thousand,” he answered casually.
“What!”
I hooted. “How did that happen? Did we rob the
bank!”
“Na,”
he answered. “I just took a chance on a new thing and it
paid off. So ...? Where to me’love?” . . . .
More...
Mary Amidst the Mountains
Edward S.
Argauer
©
Copyright 2019 by Edward S. Argauer
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Hidden
in the rugged Venezuelan mountains lies a spiritual treasure trove of
apparitions, miracles and solace for thousands, most of them poor, in
a small outlying village called Betania.
This is the story of my quixotic quest in search of
the Madonna on Christmas Eve. My expectations were high, and I was
not let down, yet pitfalls plagued my difficult pilgrimage. I
traversed the dangerous terrain with only my faith, rosary and
rudimentary Spanish to safeguard me. . . .
More...
Time To Man Up
Tom C. Erb
©
Copyright 2018 by Tom C. Erb
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On
Friday, April 3, 1964 I woke up feeling alive. It was two days away
from my
tenth birthday and I couldn't have been more excited. After looking
through all the catalogs that I could find I decided my first guitar
was going to be an acoustic guitar. It only made sense because they
costs less, and didn't require an amplifier. There was one thing I
was certain about. My first guitar would be a Gibson. If the Gibson
guitar was good enough for John Lennon and George Harrison, then it
was good enough for me. . . .
Classical Deja Vu
Tom C. Erb
©
Copyright 2018 by Tom C. Erb
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I've
got all kinds of music that resonates with me when I hear it.
Sometimes I sing out loud to the radio as I’m driving down the
road, or it brings a smile or a tear because it reminds me of special
moments. However, there is one song that has visited me and created
several musical meanings and memories each time it revisited me. As a
matter fact, this is one of those songs that always brings me a
smile.
The
first time I ever hear this song was on one of my favorite variety
show The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. It was a fun show and when
they introduced Mason Williams playing “Classical Gas” I
was amazed how cool it was and how good Williams played it. . . .
Bozo and Me
Tom C. Erb
©
Copyright 2018 by Tom C. Erb
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First
grade was not as good as kindergarten because I didn't really have as
many friends. One day my father came to me and says, “I'm going
out to sea in a couple of weeks and I need you to be the man of the
house.” I'm thinking to myself that's not a good thing because
the last time he did that, I got another sister nine months later. . . .
Culture Shocked (West Coast Bias)
John Smistad
©
Copyright 2019 by John Smistad
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I am a western U.S. guy. Born and have
lived most of my
life in western Washington state. Grew up in Texas. Spent a stint
in Salt Lake City.
As
such, I'm a pretty laid back lad. Easy goes it. Take it as it may
come. On the whole, even downright friendly. That's my lease on
life.
So
when I took a trip eastward to the tri-state area of New York, New
Jersey and Connecticut, it was a totally different
world,
baby. . . .
Goodbye
Martha
Yarborough DiPalma
©
Copyright 2019 by Martha Yarborough DiPalma
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“Happy
Father’s Day!” I was met by silence. I took his hand and
shook it gently. I checked to see that he was still breathing but
just not responding.
A
few minutes later, my three children, their spouses and all of their
children filled the room, bringing their cards, presents, hand-made
pictures, and “Happy Father’s Day” wishes. Still no
response. The room filled with silence and sorrow. . . .
The Father I Discovered Late In Life
Karen H. Curran
©
Copyright 2018 by Karen H. Curran
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Unexpected
discoveries about our families make life more interesting.
The
round glass ball, clear on the outside with an explosion of red,
purple and blue inside, hand-blown by an artisan, was a fixture in
our living room when I was growing up. It stood on a narrow glass
pedestal, top-heavy and extremely breakable, so I rarely touched it. . . .
More...
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United
States Investment in Turkmenistani Developments
Emily Rodgers
©
Copyright 2019 by Emily Rodgers
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What
came first: the Soviet Union, or the treasure trove of natural gas?
That question might be a little more complicated to answer than it
seems. In the Russian Revolution of 1917, Turkmenistan began its
transformation to a totalitarian Leninist society. As its status as
an Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic dissolved, Turkmenistan
became a republic of the Soviet Union, and its modern borders were
formed. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991,
Turkmenistan gained independence and Saparmurat Niyazov claimed the
title of Absolute Ruler of the Turkmen for Life, until his death in
2006. . . .
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Lessons From My Father
Celeste
León
©
Copyright 2019 by Celeste León
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Ths
is a tribute to my father, and to all the mothers and fathers who
make the world a better place.
Birth
and death come to us at unpredicted moments. In April 2002, I was in
the final stage of pregnancy, filled with both excitement and terror.
Certainly with more of the former, but after two miscarriages and an
ectopic pregnancy, I was terrified. This baby was full term, which
lessened the terror on that score, but in my then 36 years I had
never given a baby a bath, or even changed a diaper. . . .
Paris
Postcards
Desiree Kendrick
©
Copyright 2019 by Desiree Kendrick
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Paris,
the guidebook promises gothic spires extending to a canopy of
twinkling stars. Cathedral bells and buskers will play in harmony.
Vintage book sellers will invite you to get lost among their pages.
It’s like riding the gold and pink carousel in the park, you
won’t want to leave. There’s no shortage of history to
uncover when you land in Paris. . . .
Things
My Mother Failed To Tell Me - About Heaven
Desiree Kendrick
©
Copyright 2019 by Desiree Kendrick
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My
mother is a religious individual. We went to church wearing our
Sunday-best clothes and dress shoes. She dressed for her audience
with God Almighty. Little kid me cleaned up for the chance to twirl
in my crinoline skirt and smile at the altar boys. Every night, after
bath time and before bedtime, she’d yell over the TV hum.
“Don’t
forget to say your prayers,” she said. “Praying will help
people get to heaven.”. . .
Disability Is Not An Inability
Yuliia Vereta
©
Copyright 2019 by Yuliia Vereta
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When
Sudarshan Gautam told
the people at the Everest base camp that he was planning to climb to
the top of the highest mountain in the world, people laughed at him.
Who in their right mind would go to this inhospitable mountain, the
highest peak of the planet, without both arms? . . .
Unexpected Guest
Yuliia Vereta
©
Copyright 2019 by Yuliia Vereta
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“The
builders of empires always justified their actions by their beliefs
that they and their cultures were superior to the cultures of those
they conquered… believed in their superiority and strength,
and that their actions were instruments of the divine order.” . . .
The Best Writing Tip I've Ever Received
Yuliia Vereta
©
Copyright 2019 by Yuliia Vereta
Dedicated
to David G.
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Every
time staring at the blank page on the screen or
playing with a pencil with my fingers, I think of it. I think of the
best writing tip I’ve received in my life. It came one usual
summer day, from my best friend. . . .
The Blunder in the Ballroom
Ethan Jacobs
©
Copyright 2019 by Ethan Jacobs
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A
few months ago, I nearly emptied out my bank account on travel to and
registration for a two-day conference in New York for freelance
writers, authors, and journalists. Crazy though such a high-risk
purchase may sound, to me, it was a calculated gamble. Having lost
track of the number of unsuccessful pitches I had submitted to
editors that I was sure would love my work, I figured that if there
was something crazy enough to work that I hadn't tried, it was an
intercontinental flight to New York to spend two days with the
editors I had been unable to convince and a ballroom full of writers
who had had better luck. Though a one-on-one encounter with an
elusive editor would end in agonizing disaster, what I was able to
take away from the conference more than made up for it. . . .
Jesus Please, Give Him A Hug From Me
Yvette Myers
©
Copyright 2019 by Yvette Myers
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Jesus
please, give him a hug from me. He disappeared over 35 years ago, and
I didn’t know why until after he had died.
The
last time that I had any true contact with my brother Greg, was when
I found out that he was in a hospital in Indianapolis last Christmas.
It was odd how I found out where he was and that he was ill. . . .
More...
Spark of Memory
James B. Nicola
©
Copyright 2019 by James B. Nicola
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A
singular story about school days dedicated to those playmates and
classmates of early childhood whom we may never see again, but never
quite forget.
The
day Susan Clark
got
back her spark
I
remember like yesterday . . . .
What
happened was that Susan Clark got new eyeglasses. . . .
More...
Safranesia's Pants
Helene Munson
©
Copyright 2019 by Helene Munson
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Photo
taken in West China in 2001 while comparing my Turkmenistan dress
and Kirghiz pants outfit to a local woman’s traditional Uighur dress.
My dusty attire shows that this was truly an overland trip,
taking local transport all the way. This area is now off limits to
tourists due to the Chinese crackdown on the local Uighurs'
protests against destroying their cultural heritage sites and replacing
them with Han Chinese architecture. |
My
journey had already been hundreds of miles overland. I was excitingly
close to completing this once-in-a-lifetime trip. But here in front
of the train station in Urumqi it all seemed to unravel. I felt that
I was treated like a rabid dog. . . .
Baby Boom, Beatles, and Beyond
Patricia
M. Snell
©
Copyright 2019 by Patricia M. Snell
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This
is a story of my experience in the overpopulated baby boom
generation. It is also a story of love; imagined love, and a mother’s
real love.
My
husband and I are members of the baby boom generation. I am a boomer
simply because of the incidental timing of my birth in 1951. My
husband is an authentic boomer according to the strict definition of
why there was a boom in babies. His father, and many other war
veterans, came home from World War ll and started growing a family.
In the years following World War ll, children were multiplying like
rabbits. . . .
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I
Have A List And A Map. . .
What Can Go
Wrong?
Wendy
Lee Klenetsky
©
Copyright
2019 by Wendy Lee Klenetsky
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It’s a tale of what my children and I have
gone through with my husband as we traveled the roads.
"I have a
list and a map. What can possibly go
wrong?"
Gee...if
I had a dollar for every
time that phrase (or one just like it)
was uttered, I'd be having pina coladas at our villa in the south of
France! Well, maybe not France,
but at least Palm Springs!
Busted
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
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Being
home a lot these days coping with old age and multiple myeloma, I
have time to think, and remember, and sometimes the energy to
actually sit at the computer and write. Thoughts are often random
and not associated with anything current, like the times I’ve
been arrested. Except that I might be again. . . .
I Want to Go with You
Ana Vidosavljevic
©
Copyright 2019 by Ana Vidosavljevic
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I
rarely saw her. She was like an apparition. She would appear suddenly,
float in the thin air barely showing her presence and then disappear
again. I had always thought that we had nothing in common except that
we had the same name, Isabel.
My
mother was a strange person. She was a painter and often held art
workshops all around the country and abroad. When I was five she
decided to leave my father and leave me with him. There was no choice
for me and it seemed she had no desire to bring me with her and take
upon the role of a mother. My father was flabbergasted. He knew nothing
about children raising. He was just a mechanic. But somehow, the two of
us managed to successfully perform the roles of a father and a
daughter. . . .
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Londoner At Heart
Ozge Gurbuz
©
Copyright 2019 by Ozge Gurbuz
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They
say that cities have their own souls. As I was walking down the
passageways of Covent Garden, I thought to myself
‘’This
city has more than one soul.‘’. If people are ever asked
to describe London, they'd likely use these three words; rain,
fashion, and music. For me though, there is only one word. Love! . . .
Forgiveness
Kelly Maida
©
Copyright 2019 by Kelly Maida
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As
I sit in the
hospital waiting to be seen, I try to figure out the events that led
me here. The blood rushes down my face and my nose and head throb. I
am lucky to be alive, and I pray that I will be okay. I am grateful
that I left my house when I did. The nurse walks in and asks if I can
hear her. When I look up, I can see the outline of her body, but the
details are blurry. She tells me to follow her back to triage. She
pauses, turns back, and looks at me, "Don’t worry you are
safe." The hospital is on lock down so that no one can come in
or go out. I sigh with relief. I walk into my hospital room, crawl
onto the bed, and close my eyes. My mind automatically begins to
recall the events that brought me here. . . .
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The Long Way Home
Kay
Harper
©
Copyright 2019 by Kay Harper
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I
was sailing right along on the familiar I-75 between North Georgia
and my home in Florida. With limited stops, my ETA was better than it
had ever been. Then came the critical point when I thought I was
taking a shortcut, only to realize as soon as I exited that I was
heading down the wrong road. . . .
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The Purloined Paintings
Emily Hart
© Copyright 2019 by Emily Hart
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I
have often operated from the premise that it is easier to ask
forgiveness than to get permission. When our 4th grade Social Studies
lesson mentioned Pulitzer Prize winner political cartoonist Carey Orr
I decided it was one of those days. In our dining room at
home
hung two original paintings by Uncle Carey. I was
sure
the class would like to see them and certainly Sister (a generic term
for all nuns) would be impressed. I had the feeling my mother
might not be so keen on letting me take the paintings to school, so I
skipped that pesky getting permission stage and quietly slipped out
with the artwork after lunch. . . .
The Spaced Program
Doug Sherr
©
Copyright 2019 by Doug Sherr
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In
the early 1960s, a friend of mine and I formed a little company to
apply lubricant coatings to race car engines and space ships. We
borrowed $1500 seed money from his mother and went to work. Despite
having little knowledge and no experience to guide us, after four
months of 14-hour days we had built a facility that passed the eye of
a NASA qualified inspector. Soon after that, my partner started
working harder to get rid of me than to build our business. We were
trading shouts in a hostile board meeting at our company, Orion
Industries, when a call came in for me from Dow Chemical Company.
They were giving us the chance to bid on a sub-contract for NASA.
This would be our first big project. . . .
More...
My Choice Not to Choose Then
D'Lisa DarLuz
©
Copyright 2019 by D'Lisa DarLuz
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“You
and Tyra are more than friends, aren’t you?” My mother
sat at the end of the table, opposite me.
I
tried to make myself look comfortable, scooting around in a white
framed chair, cushioned by a teal seat. “Yes,” I said, as
I looked up from the table top, only to find eyes occupied with
disappointment and concern looking back at me.
I
knew this talk was coming. The night before was filled with
companionship, discovery, revelations, and teenage secrets. It was
all too good to be true. . . .
More...
Just a Little Change
Edward Hamilton
©
Copyright 2019 by Edward Hamilton
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(c) 2019 freeart.com
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. . .That’s
when it happened. I was coming out of the slow traffic and entering
the faster traffic heading out of the city, when a bum holds out a
sign for me to see. The sign was not flashy. It was merely a brown
piece of cardboard, barely bigger than a sheet of paper. The words
‘Just a Little Change’ was wrote on it. The words were
broken into three lines. ‘Just’ on the first line. ‘a
little’ on the second line and ‘Change’ on the
third. The words were a half inch thick, wrote in black marker. The
first thing I noticed about the sign was the letters were perfect. I
could have never written a more perfect letter unless I used a
stencil. Then the words hit me. ‘Just a little change’.
Why did he word it like that? Why not, ‘I need your change’
or ‘I’m hungry please help’. . . .
Monument
James L. Cowles
©
Copyright 2019 by James L. Cowles
|
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Winter Storm Goliath had lived up to its name,
bringing a huge swath of snow and ice from the West through a large
portion of the Plains from Dec. 24 and continuing through Dec.
29th.
Within that area, a historic blizzard buried the southern Plains in
heavy snow, whipped by wind gusts as high as 80 mph. This was
rare weather for Roswell, New Mexico and a record 18 inches of snow
and drifts 10 to 20 feet high made it impossible for most to get out
of their houses, but on Christmas Eve, Bryan Richards was not one of
them. . . .
The Brigadier
David Lewis Pogson
©
Copyright 2019 by David Lewis Pogson
|
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This story describes
characters known to me and events as experienced by me. The
part relating to 1963 is taken from my direct personal involvement.
The part relating to 2001 is taken from extensive coverage of events
which, whilst not involving me directly, were happening on a daily
basis within the locality of my home and work and were well reported
in the media. I became aware of a direct correlation between
those early and later events. Other than my own name, I have not
given the full names of any character as those individuals would
likely be embarrassed by this accolade but anyone wishing to know
more can undertake the same research as me via the Internet. This is
a tribute to those who saved my life. . . .
The Train
Jeff Howe
©
Copyright 2007 by Jeff Howe
|
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Jason
stood on the train platform in the lazy light of early evening. Here
in the suburbs, the train was above ground, four stretched silverish
boxes playing follow-the-leader for all to see and hear. When it
approached the city, it would plunge underground to race through
tubes of tile and concrete rumbling the sidewalks above.
The
platform was darkened from the footsteps of thousands of commuters
passing through this station daily. Dingy white concrete pillars
which supported the rigid overhead cover were chipped and marked with
names and odd symbols in dark brown spray paint. . . .
The Fifty Cent Bible
Judith Nakken
©
Copyright 2019 by Judith Nakken
|
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I
bought them, two old, small, brown leather bound bibles tied together
with twine, at an antique auction in L.A. County in the autumn of
1958. Only because the antique-buying populace didn’t want
them, and they went for the original dollar asked by the struggling
auctioneer. As an avowed atheist, I didn’t want them for any
reason except that, as an equally avowed book lover, I couldn’t
bear to see ancient tomes ignored. They went on a stacked bookshelf
in the granny room, the tiny spare bedroom where everything unused
reposed at one time or another. . . .
More...This
the second story about my Dad, who taught me the meaning of
racial acceptance by his example during the Second World War years. At
that time, Americans with dark skin were called “negroes”,
not intended to disrespect anyone. . . .
A Letter To The French Docteur Who Monitored My
Pulse
Desiree Kendrick
©
Copyright 2019 by Desiree Kendrick
|
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After
embarking on a river cruise in Provence, France, I extended my trip
to explore on my own. I did my research before I left home and
planned my itinerary for Nice. This incident was NOT on my top ten
things-to-do list. . . .
Arrival in Lagos, Nigeria
Guy M. Tombs
©
Copyright 2019 by Guy M. Tombs
|
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These
are first impressions of what was to be a two and a half year stay in
Nigeria. There are many more stories to tell.
I
am writing now because I wish to set out my first impressions. I am
well and have regained some lost sleep. Apparently I shall be posted
to Northwestern State, the capital of which is Sokoto. I have heard
of its extreme heat. The city is ancient. I believe I can choose to
go to the south of the state, to Minna or thereabouts. I shall be
teaching at a Teachers’ Training College. There is a dire need
for teachers like me in the North. I’ll be teaching English,
pretty much as I had thought and so carefully prepared for: English
as a Second Language. . . .
|
My Aunty
Margie
Hofman
©
Copyright 2019 by Margie Hofman
|
|
Aunty, my mother’s sister, lived in a small
house with her
daughter-in-law and granddaughter. One evening in 1943 they all
went up the road to join her other sister and her family as they were
all nervous of the bombing.
Suddenly
they heard the Germans flying towards London and thought “That’s
all right, they are going to London direct and will not bother us. BUT,
on their way back, they decided to unload the unused bombs on the
countryside near the sea. Aunty’s little house got a direct
hit. She came home and the house was flattened in a circle. They
heard a noise and there was the pet canary still in its cage. . . .
Small Lives
Bill Cox
©
Copyright 2018 by Bill Cox
|
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Small lives, fully
lived.
Loving
kin, battling
rivals.
Brilliant
lives,
shining brightly,
Fighting
the dark
embrace,
Of the
encroaching night. . . .
More...
Bill Price
Don Shook
©
Copyright 2019 by Don Shook
|
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A
.22 caliber revolver pointed two feet from my forehead was no way to
greet that beautiful autumn morning. Were it on stage or another
"let's pretend" scenario I could have understood. But
this, I assumed, was of dead earnest intent by one of my high-school
students whose demeanor defied any semblance of normalcy. With his
fat finger on the trigger and a surly grin on his face, he stood
above my desk threatening to be my last sight on earth. In my
previous teaching jobs I thought I had experienced surprising events;
but none even started to compare. . . .
More...
Reborn to Die Again
Amanda Pedersen
©
Copyright 2019 by Amanda Pedersen
|
|
The engine of my
white Mini Cooper sputtered. The winter’s weather was harsh,
and the roads weren’t any better. They were slippery, ice
strewn. The temperature gage shows fourteen degrees below zero.
Wrapped up in my wool coat, the cold didn’t faze me. . . .
A Dream About The Other World
Laura Labno
©
Copyright 2019 by Laura Labno
|
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I
dreamed a strange dream this night. Of course, all dreams hold
strangeness of a kind but this one made me feel in that particularly
unpleasant way – It left an aftertaste which made me feel
drained. There were lots of plots in it, which I'm not quite able to
describe but I remember that there was my dad in it. And he wasn't
happy. Maybe it's because I talked with him yesterday, thats why I
dreamed him. . . .
|
Should the Government be Involved in Equal Pay for Women?
(Prepared for debate in 6th grade class)
Zinnia Nichols Loller
©
Copyright 2019 by Zinnia Nichols Loller
|
|
The
way the pay gap works is through interrupted careers, less working
hours due to motherhood, and decreased future earnings. These
decreased future earnings come to an average of $419,000 during a
lifetime (Cable News Network). That’s a lot. None of these
things will change with time, making the gender pay gap something
that will never be completely resolved unless we do something. . . .
|
Slight Panic on
the Midwest-Bound Express Train
Xiaochen Su
©
Copyright 2019 by Xiaochen Su
|
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The
interregional express train from Boston bound for Chicago suddenly
ground to a halt, jolting me awake as I was napping away on the slow
weekday afternoon.
Rubbing
my eyes, I stared outside the window for clues to what could have
brought the regular long-haul Amtrak service to a halt. The setting
sun was painting the sky a glowing red, as the wheat field below,
ready for their fall harvest, swayed gently in the wind. No station,
no town, not even a dirt path that a truck can drive up to. It was,
quite obviously, not a routine stop a train would take to unload
passengers. . . .
Just Another Night Shift
Laura Labno
©
Copyright 2019 by Laura Labno
|
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It
was a peaceful night shift at the fast food place where I work.
Saturday nights tend to get busy at around midnight when all the
drunk people come out of the pubs and bars to charge themselves up a
little with some oil-soaked chicken and fries. Some occasionally will
throw up on the restaurant floor to keep me entertained and others
will throw food at the restaurant walls or, in more radical cases, at
me. . . .
More...
Grey Lady
Mary Alice Betley
©
Copyright 2019 by Mary Alice Betley
|
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Several
years ago I taught at a B.I.A. school at Teec
Nos Pos, AZ. When I first arrived, I was assigned Apartment
#15. As I was moving in, a large collie—type
dog
came up to me, acting very friendly but also skittish
and frightened. . . .
Spirits
In The Night
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
|
|
I’m not a
believer in ghosts, or spirits wandering among us, or in an afterlife
with winged angels flitting around the heavens, but I’ve
learned in my 81 years that there is so much we don’t know
about everything. We know that we don’t know what most of the
human brain is used for. We know that at the moment of death several
grams of weight are lost, explained by religion as the soul leaving
the body. And I’ve had a few experiences I cannot explain that
leave me open to ideas I would have once rejected out of hand. . . .
Snake
Hunting in South Carolina
Albert Vetere Lannon
©
Copyright 2019 by Albert Vetere Lannon
|
Eastern
Diamondback Rattlesnake (Crotalus adamanteus)
|
Growing
up was terrifying during the Cold War Red Scare years, with Dad a
Full-Time Functionary of the U.S. Communist Party. Consumed with
their politics and the growing repression, there was little time for
me, so I learned that if I couldn’t get positive attention, I
would find ways to get negative attention. One of those was
collecting and keeping snakes. . . .
More...
Raft of Summer
Don Shook
©
Copyright 2019 by Don Shook
|
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It
was a strange Texas spring, with dark May mornings and heavy rains.
By summer Ten Mile Creek was filled to overflowing…and we knew
that somewhere in the murky depths of Bluehole, the Monster awaited…
My
feet were stuck. Instinct screamed for me to tear through the
undergrowth, up the steep bank and into the adjoining pasture where
nothing on two legs- and precious little on four-had a prayer of
catching me. Instead, I stood paralyzed, eyes glued on the brushy far
side bank of the creek, desperately trying to identify the thrashing
that had sent our pulses racing. A quick glance revealed that Pete
too was riveted on the opposite shore. . . .
|
Like Caves Within Caves
Emily Hart
© Copyright 2019 by Emily Hart
|
|
The Atomic
Clock ticks
on inexorably. Unless we turn back the hands.
The
bed is cold as I slide into it. Chan is rolling the rug
tightly
against the door. By the lamplight I can see the shimmering
of
ice on the window sill. Earlier I swept up a dusting of gray
snow from the floor below the window. There are drifts of
cold
throughout the house, like caves within caves. . . .
|
Gomez the Jungle Dog
Brittany
Rohm
©
Copyright 2019 by Brittany
Rohm
|
|
My
bright green t-shirt clung to my chest, drenched with sweat and
morning rain. Mosquitos buzzed in my ear, distracting me from the
others that were biting my exposed skin, long rinsed of its bug
spray. The sun, high in the sky, tried to fight its way through the
dense jungle. Only rays as thin as knife blades sliced down to the
forest floor.
At
my feet, trotting in and out of the slivers of sun, was Gomez. Not
much bigger than a house cat, and black like the night that hung
heavy over this part of Colombia, Gomez fit in well with his
surrounds. . . .
More
|
The Bears of California
Leslie Soule
©
Copyright 2019 by Leslie Soule
|
|
So
there I was, pondering what to write about. I had a weird dream last
night, after a long weekend of work, gardening at my friend Tom’s
mother’s house in Placerville. In my dream, I wandered my
house, and it was full of snakes. I like snakes. But in my dream,
there were far too many of them to deal with. I had the problem of
trying to find tanks for all of these snakes, and the problem was
that there were far too many snakes to deal with, and not enough
tanks to house them all. . . .
|
Celebrating Daddy
Kay
Harper
©
Copyright 2019 by Kay Harper
|
|
Father’s
Day – June 17, 2018.
Today,
I’m honoring my father not only due to the fact that it’s
Father’s Day, but because it’s also the 102nd anniversary
of his birth! We lost him in his 76th year, but
time has
not diminished the profound influence he had on the lives of my two
older brothers and me. He was an original through and through, and he
taught us to be originals, too! . . .
Black Canyon Mountain Lion
Koji A. Dae
©
Copyright 2019 by Koji A. Dae
|
|
From
2001-2010 I
worked with a conservation corps in southern Arizona. I spent most of
that time camping in various parts of the state and completing
projects from rain-water harvesting to migrant trash pickup. Some of
my fondest memories come from the more backbreaking, wilderness
assignments, where we were more likely to encounter wild animals,
such as this time near Black Canyon city in central Arizona. . . .
The Easter Bunnies
Carol Rotta
©
Copyright 2019 by Carol Rotta
|
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The
memory of a little girl and the rabbits she and her younger brother
received for Easter—and the humorous events that followed.
Two
Easter bunnies came to live at our house. Literally. I was seven and
my brother, Bunky, was five when our parents gave us each a baby
bunny for Easter. How Mother persuaded Daddy to let us have them
remains a mystery—he did not
like pets of any kind. We didn’t even have a dog! She probably
assured him the man at the pet store had guaranteed both rabbits were
the same gender. . . .
Notre Dame Cathedral Is Afire Today
N. Barry Carver
©
Copyright 2019 by N. Barry Carver
|
|
15
Avril 2019
Notre
Dame Cathedral is afire today.
I
am, with the world, wallowing in a grief bigger than buildings, or
nationalism, or fire, but I am also assailed with personal memories.
I've been trying not to think about it, not to watch the images that
are coming in from everywhere, but this fire in Paris is breaking my
heart. . . .
More...
Stranger In The Club
Luqman Morrison
©
Copyright 2019 by Luqman Morrison
|
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This is a story about a time in my life when I sold cigarettes in a nightclub.
I will tell you about him. I always remember him, sometimes with wet
eyes and some smiles.
There
used to be times when the city of Warri would sleep during the day to
wake up at night. It is true that Warri used to be a nocturnal city.
There
were nightclubs where boys and girls would go to set their bodies on
fire and burn nights away. Beats from loud speakers and cigarettes
and hemps and gins and many other liquids in fine bottles were the
fuel. . . .
Born In Defiance
Ru Otto
©
Copyright 2019 by Ru Otto
|
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This
is the first vignette in my ongoing, but as yet unpublished,
autobiographical book, Signs
of Life. Coming of age in the
40’s and 50’s was hard enough for a girl without the
added challenges of poverty, disability, and alcoholism. But
I became
like tempered steel in this intense environment, fired to a shining
resiliency in the heat of human passions. . . .
My Maisie
Isabel
Bearman Bucher
©
Copyright 2019
by Isabel
Bearman Bucher
|
|
“You’re where?” I said into the
phone. “What do you mean you put ten dollars down on a
dog! I don’t want a dog! What do you mean Bob and I
are getting too old and need a companion? I don’t need a
dog. No. I don’t care! Wha ... ?”
My daughter went on to explain that she’d
been
looking for a year for us at the Animal Humane place, and finally
she’d found one that she knew would work for us both. . . .
|
Home
Anna G. Joujan
© Copyright 2019 by Anna G.
Joujan
|
|
Grief
has no sense
of decorum. So it did not occur to me to question my actions when I
interrupted the chaplain, with his head bowed and hands folded, to
place myself in front of my grandfather’s
face. As he tugged on the tubes, wildly waving his hands,
and
craning his neck up while his head turned side to side, I planted my
face in front of his. “Hi PaCharley,” I said. Over. And
over. I saw his clear blue eyes. I saw him.
He saw me. . . .
