Scroll
down for recent stories
An Unlikely Friend
Spencer Shaak
©
Copyright 2018 by Spencer Shaak
|
 |
December
29, 2015
In
Suseong-gu’s neighborhood of Daegu in South Korea, the PC Bang
room chattered with gamer’s sighs, clicking mouses, soju
popping, and lighters snapping. I drowned out the sounds and focused on
typing out a lesson plan for my students at the elementary school
I was working at.
PC
bangs are the local hangout for lunch break Academy students in the
afternoons and ajusshis (older Korean men) getting their gambling fix
at night. If you manage to stay there for an entire day’s
period, you can witness the swapping of youth with age like a life
cycle. . . .
The Whaling Sound
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
familiar sounds and smells of the shore swirled in the air as the Old
Lady removed her shoes for her daily walk. She cherished this beach
because in spite of having free public access with no inhospitable
cliffs, it still remained relatively unknown, with few visitors.
Sandpipers
staged their daily dance at the water's edge, while terns hovered
overhead looking for the occasional fish which swam too close to the
shore. Seagulls protested the whole performance, flying back and
forth, squawking at their winged competitors. An occasional crab
scrounged for a bit of food washed in by the last high tide. This
ancient choreography played itself out daily, unchanged, no audience
required. . . .
Bad to the Bone
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
snoring from the next room aggravated the Old Lady. She could smell
stale alcohol permeating the air as she firmed up in her mind the
plans she had made the night before.
He
was sleeping off yet another drunken binge. Most likely he had
picked up a woman and attempted to be the lover he once was. He
should have figured out long ago that booze had softened up more than
his brain. . . .
The Wailing Sound
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
Old Lady lived in a not-so-nice-anymore trailer on the backside of
her daughter's property. It was a lonely existence. She had little
to occupy her time and now she had few friends because most of them
had died.
She
had been told by the doctor to walk some every day, an undertaking
she dreaded, but faithfully executed, because she wanted to
experience a few more good years.
After
two months, she was finally able to walk more than a block where a
small market was located. The clerk was a friendly character who let
her rest on chair before returning home.
Today
she asked him about the wailing sound she heard every time she
approached the store. “It's the Pentecostal Church”, he
replied. Curiosity consumed he Old Lady. That day, after her rest,
instead of heading home, she turned in the direction of the Church. . . .
Liberty and Justice
Naheem Watson
©
Copyright 2018 by Naheem Watson
|
 |
My name is Naheem
Watson and I am in 10th grade. My short story is titled Justice
and Liberty, and is about a boy, named Trayvon, who decided
to not stand for the Pledge of Allegiance and the repercussions he
faced. This book is aimed toward a younger audience, for instance
middle schoolers or advanced elementary students. I was inspired to
write about this topic because my friend, who goes to a different
school than me, had a similar experience to Trayvon when she decided
to not stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. She was thrown out of her
classroom by her teacher and her education was disrupted. After
hearing her story, I knew what I had to write about. . . .
Geezer
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
Old Man slept heavily, weary from the exertions of the day. When he
awakened, he would rest for several more hours wrapped in a thermal
blanket, the old dog curled around his aching feet.He
had always been a good provider thought the Old Lady who watched him
resting peacefully. She would fix him a steak dinner tonight. They
would dine leisurely, talk about some of their good times together,
and share a glass of wine. After dinner they would count the
money. . . .
Evan
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
Old Lady sat in the
booth by the restaurant door. She could see the pepperoni pizza
beginning to blister as it cooked away in the oven. When it was
ready, she would drive directly to her daughter's house to share it
with her and the grandchildren. She pictured her grandson, cheese
and sauce dribbling down his face, chewing on his pizza and telling
her about his day.
The
restaurant door
opened once again. A gray haired man holding the hand of a small boy
approached the counter to place an order. The child bore no physical
resemblance to the man. Was it his grandfather? His late in life
dad? The relationship was unclear, but one thing was obvious to the
Old Lady. The boy was miserable. . . .
No Love
Deanna Salser
©
Copyright 2018 by Deanna Salser
|
 |
I have spent
practically my whole life with strangers. Since being taken from my
mom after I was burned at age 7 months, I bounced from foster home to
foster home, joined by my baby brother when he was taken away as
well, it was stipulated we not be separated. Different homes wanted
to keep me or him but never us both, so we were moved again. The next
home was of a Southern Baptist Preacher and his wife and four kids
who were looking for more children to care for. It should have been
the ideal situation for us. Turns out it was only ideal for my
brother. . . .
Porch Cat
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
By feral
standards, the tom cat was a senior citizen. The average feral lived
three years, but the tom was still wandering his turf at the age of
six. He was king of his territory, challenged often by young toms,
scuffed and ripped, but always the victor. When it came to competing
for females, he had no equal. . . .
Beach Bum
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
sun was high in the sky and the tide was low as the Old Lady made her
way slowly down the beach. The plastic bag she carried as dragging
now on the sand, marking a trail to indicate her path.
As
she walked, she studied the washed up debris, searching for the
pieces of driftwood which might later become part of her sculptures.
From time to time, she dug up a twisted twig or a flattened board
from its sandy grave. Many of her driftwood pieces were unadorned. Some
were decorated with sand-dremeled items that washed ashore along
with the wood. . . .
Sentry
Kathryn Lynch
©
Copyright 2018 by Kathryn Lynch
|
 |
The
two year old
German Shepherd lived in a small town in Alaska. His bed sat in
front of a furnace vent on the second floor, where he spent most
afternoons sleeping and dreaming happily about canine adventures,
real and imagined. He had another name then, though in later years
he could not remember what it was.
He
knew nothing,
nor did he care, about a failing economy in the area. So when his
family stopped at the edge of town to let him out, he was surprised to
see their car drive off without him, and he determined to wait until
they came back. He sat for several hours by the roadside until
darkness fell. . . .
Hamam
June Calender
©
Copyright 2018 by June Calender
|
 |
One
of those glossy travel magazines had an article full of superlatives
about the female writer’s experience in a Turkish hamam—a
bathhouse fit for the Pasha’s harem. She described a tiled and
marbled sanctuary/spa with a blue tiled dome open to the sky above a
large, shallow pool also tiled in blue. I recalled the Alhambra that
had entranced me many years earlier. She described hefty Turkish
women with pails of soapy water who scrubbed her after she had soaked
in the pool, they shampooed her hair with wonderful gentle
efficiency. . . .
The Value of Writing
Griselda Sukmoro
©
Copyright 2018 by Griselda Sukmoro
|
|
A man types on his
keyboard, moving at a speed that produces a rushing sound. The screen
in front of him glows with black letters filling an empty canvas. He
is a writer. He dives deep into his world and composes a litany of
epic stories. Does this remind you of someone? He could be any of us
right now or in the past or in the future. . . .
Online, Offhuman
Donald R. Gallehr
©
Copyright 2018 by V
|
 |
The
latest consequence of being so online is the closing of Toys R Us,
but it’s not the first and I don’t think it will be the
last. Someday I fully expect us to be able to buy cars online
by listing our preferences, finances, and measurements, sending them
to a dealership, and then waiting a few minutes for them to show up
with the car. . . .
Essay on Bangladesh
Akbor Aziz Susom
©
Copyright 2018 by Akbor Aziz Sasom
|
 |
“The Present
adverse and miserable conditions of our state where we need enough
concern to have a forward-looking life for our young generation. . . .”
We all
come in this beautiful world as a human but the way of our living
considering all the people in the world is so much discriminated and
that is constantly increasing day by day among the people .It is a
common phenomenon even in some developed countries that some people
fly in jet plane while some do not even find a street to walk, some
live in a mansion while some do not find a place to sleep and so many
cases the distinction is emphatically obvious. In my opinion, it is
a great concerning issue that can be a huge threat in future if it
continues in this way. . . .
|
Roy the Barber
Martin Bressi
©
Copyright 2018 by Martin Bressi
|
|
During
childhood, every occasion seems special in spite of its
insignificance in the grand scheme of things. . . .
When
I was a kid, going to the barbershop was one of these special
occasions. Opening the door and walking past the red and white
striped pole was like entering a secret and forbidden temple; a
universe where old men gathered to talk about politics and women and
complain about how things were never as good as they used to be. . . .
Peace
Abid Shahriyar
©
Copyright 2018 by Abid Shahriyar
|
 |
Peace
is not a distant bird somewhere in some bush. It is often perching
right upon our own shoulder. Often we fail to recognize it unless it
flies away or gets taken away. Once my little sister was mortified
by the disagreements that brought upon her family members.
Our
whole family went for a hang out on that day. My sister said with
affliction to me, ''Tomorrow will be a new year for us but everyone
is not in a jolly mood''. My elder brother insisted on buying a new
bicycle. Father, mother and brother were conflicting about that. . . .
The Importance of the Combahee River Collective
Nathnael Haile
©
Copyright 2018 by Nathnael Haile
|
 |
"If
Black women
were free it would mean that everyone else would have to be free
since our freedom would necessitate the destruction of all systems of
oppression," (The Combahee River Collective Statement).
This means that if Black Lesbian women were freed, everyone else
would be free because that would signify that all forms of oppression
would be eradicated. The Combahee River Collective Statement (the
CRCS) was essential in the strive for equality between all people. . . .
Mr. Fox
James L. Cowles
©
Copyright 2018 by James L. Cowles
|
|
My
wife and I moved into a new home a few years back and immediately
fell in love with our location. It’s in a beautiful part of
our city, with a creek running along its boundary and through a
densely wooded area. To top it off, there are two beautiful man-made
lakes at the entrance of our neighborhood, alive with all kinds of
wildlife. . . .
|
How Tapirs and Toucans
Are Saving Us From Climate Change
Kavitha Yarlagadda
©
Copyright 2018 by Kavitha Yarlagadda
|
 |
I
am a Civil Engineer by profession, apart from my work, I am
passionate about reading and writing, a crazy book lover, an aspiring
writer and a person who cares about our environment and nature.
The
rapidly increasing Climate change and global warming is posing a
great risk to the very existence of human life. Climate Change is
one phenomenon which we cannot dare to ignore as it is growing in a
rapid manner which is evident in the many natural disasters
worldwide. . . .
Letting Go and Saying No
Linda Elliott-George
©
Copyright 2018 by Linda Elliott-George
|
 |
1955…
Southern Ontario
The
graceful spruce trees shade the gravel lane leading to the Century
farm. A large yellow brick home sits grandly in the middle of a
casually cared for garden. The emerald grass, just tall enough for
the robins to hide as, they search for worms. The grass blows quietly
in the summer breeze. Grandpa’s farm has been my home for a
year. . . .
More...
Alligator Attack
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2018 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
After
renting a condo in Marco Island, Florida for one year, in June,2015,
we bought a condo four miles from Marco Island, in Naples. Our
neighbors, Fred and Jane told us an alligator story that happened a
few years before we moved here. They’ve been coming down here
from Boston for twenty eight years. A man that that lives in Midway
Condos across the street, drove over with his dog to visit one of our
residents. When he and the dog got out of the car, his dog barked.
Dogs are a favorite food for alligators. An alligator raced across
the rocks, and came around to the parking lot after the dog, The dog
ran off, but the alligator had the man’s leg in his mouth. In
minutes, the Florida Fish and Wildlife were here, and beat the
alligator to death. . . .
|
Zambian Critters A
month of animal tales from a teacher in the Zambian BushAnna G. Joujan
© Copyright 2018 by Anna G.
Joujan
|
|
“It
is good”
I
am watching the monkeys frolick outside my bedroom window as I ponder
the first week of my time here in Zambia. It is a difficult thing to
make any sort of coherence out of the scrambled flurry of thoughts,
reactions, experiences, and wonderings that are jostling about in my
head, but I shall make a valiant effort, I promise. . . .
The Day I Thought I Would Die (But Didn't)
Karen Kasius
©
Copyright 2018 by Karen Kasius
|
 |
February
23, 2015 , the last day of my life. The last day of my
life , cleaning baseboards , chopping celery and tossing
out Nutella . All this in preparation for tomorrow when I go in
for surgery. Surgery I will not survive. I know, I know,
very self centered making it all about me. Not thinking about
the family I am about to leave behind. I’ve found myself
more concerned about what people will say when they come to our house
after the memorial service at the end of the week. Was
she a good mother? ( whaaat?? the French eat Nutella ) Did she
keep a clean house? ( mmm...no but she did buy supplies) Did
she volunteer for political events or school field trips? (not really
but she did bring oranges once to a little league game even though
her son was INTENTIONALLY left off the roster) Did she hold
grudges? Not at all (except little league)....
Ambush--Gender Modified
Robert Flournoy
©
Copyright
2018 by Robert Flournoy
|
|
This
is based on a true experience I had in Vietnam. When the debate
about women in combat was the story of the day I massaged my
experience a little to try and shed some light on the reality of
such nonsense.
Our platoon was strung out in a
ragged line, concealed in the foliage of a hillside, with a good
view and fields of fire of a large terraced farm field about
50 meters across from a trail that ran between it and below
us. . . .
|
Where Lions Sleep
Anna G. Joujan
© Copyright 2018 by Anna G.
Joujan
|
|
It
is a sound unlike any I have ever heard before, and a sound
impossible to describe with the written word. But once you have heard
it, you can never forget it. So my sleep has been sweet, lulled into
slumber each night to the soft and steady hum of the lions.
It
has been the week of the lions. A small pride of females moved into
the camp—no one knows why, as it is unusual for them to choose
such a relatively inhabited spot, humanly speaking, for their hunting
grounds. But they are most definitely here. And our daily life has
been significantly disrupted. . . .
A
Family's Gift
Robert Flournoy
©
Copyright
2018 by Robert Flournoy
|
|
About
sixteen years ago I threw a handful of wildflower seeds onto a small
sunny slope that comes down out of the woods in our back yard.
When
we bought our home in Franklin, TN, after moving here from Denver
eighteen years ago, I did not realize (due to a listing error on the
part of the selling realtor) that we were getting a lot that was
almost three acres in size. Surrounded by a small forest of
hardwoods. . . .
Lesson From Lorraine and Sue
Jo Somerset
©
Copyright 2018 by Jo Somerset
|
 |
This work traces the fortunes
of two women – Lorraine and Sue (both close to me) – who were
vociferous proponents for disabled people’s freedom. Both had
experienced polio in the 1950s epidemic in Britain. In tracing the web
of their lives, I had to consider how to essay their lives where my
(non-disabled) viewpoint did not drown out their voices. . . .
Choir Mom
Christopher DeCou
©
Copyright 2018 by Christopher DeCou
|
 |
Dawn
was sitting in the corner at the small table. She has light brown
hair, though as she admitted in her smooth drawl, “I just got
my hair colored yesterday. I knew I had to get cleaned up before
meeting you. I met David and Katherine for lunch on Sunday, and had
to apologize so many times for my appearance. I looked awful. I
haven’t had it recolored all summer. I’m just vain
enough, I have to make sure my hair is colored right.” She is
fond of describing herself as “matronly,” and I can’t
think of a better description. She commands a room, always prepared
for any and everyone, ready to solve any crisis, be a shoulder to cry
on, offer a word of advice. She is not tall or imposing, but her
presence always impresses. . . .
Of Books and Fighter Planes
Anne Organista
©
Copyright 2018 by Anne Organista
|
 |
In numerous
instances, teaching has made me a private spectator to the
breakthroughs in my students’ learning. There is never as much
joy in watching a person’s (be it child or adult) sense of
wonder awakened and witnessing a discovery found in the most unlikely
places. . . .
Hello My Darling
Rachael McGann
©
Copyright 2018 by Rachael McGann
|
 |
“Mamashana.
As long as you look good, that’s all that matters.”
The literal
translation is “pretty mother”, but it’s
generally used as a term of endearment for girls in one’s
family. One’s Jewish family, I should note (although, come
on…you knew that.)
Since childhood, I
was convinced it was a nickname reserved just for me. I never heard
my grandmother, “Bubbie”, call anyone else mamashana, and
after all I was her first - and favorite - grandchild. . . .
Auld Tom--The Leek Man
Jilly Allison
©
Copyright 2018 by Jilly Allison
|
 |
Auld
Tom did exist in our village. He was a lovely man. I have
tried to explain quite lot. Leek growing and
pigeon ‘fancying’ ( breeding of pigeons to fly long distances and
win lots of medals as opposed to pigeons used as ‘messengers’ in
the First World War.)
Auld Tom was a legend in his own
lifetime, primarily
because of his expertise with leeks and because that lifetime
stretched over 96 years, as opposed to Young Tom, a mere stripling of
72, and John Thomas, the grandson in his fifties, these intrepid
folk inhabited our village in the nineties and were a leftover of times
long past. . . .
Aunt Mary
Jilly Allison
©
Copyright 2018 by Jilly Allison
|
 |
Other families get a ‘femme
fatale’ our
family got a ‘femme formidable’ in the shape of Aunt
Mary.
She was from the beginning an
‘outlaw’
and was not, to say the least, welcomed by the ‘coven’
that represented my Uncle Frank’s sisters.
She had MARRIED him in 1926 ( I
use the phrase
advisedly as it was generally thought that when this little ‘gold
digger’ and her mother clapped eyes on Uncle Frank his goose
was well and truly cooked) after the briefest of courtships they
married with small ceremony and even smaller reception. . .
Your Own Statement.
Fractoluminescence
©
Copyright 2018 by Fractoluminescence
|
 |
I
am a 16 year old girl that projects to become poet-writer-mangaka
someday. My name as
a writer and artist is 'Fractoluminescence'. Sorry, I know it's a bit
too long :/ but I chose it carefully enough to be ready to keep it my
whole life. It does have
a significance (and at least I don't think anybody else had the idea to
use it).
The Endless Path
Trey Branom Dylan
©
Copyright 2018 by Trey Branom Dylan
|
 |
Everyone
grows up different, some having it worse than others and yes this was
my life. Having parents with stability, is all I ever wanted. Luck
did not go in my favor, as my parents were worthless. I had dreams I
needed to fulfill, but they were holding me back. I had been with
this dysfunctional household for eight years now. This is all I ever
knew, and it was starting to impact me as a person and the human I
wanted to become. . . .
Ganymede: The Red Moon
Priya Florence
Shah
©
Copyright 2018 by Priya Florence Shah
|
 |
I could
feel the fear coursing through me as I looked out over the railing.
The Others were going about their work down below. I knew I had to
get out, get my family out of here before the moon passed over again.
It was a Red Moon, beautiful in appearance, yet sinister in the havoc
it would wreak over our seemingly peaceful colony, Ganymede.
Ganymede
was all I
had known. Since I could remember, we had lived with the Others in
Ganymede. It was a fully-functioning living area that we had come to
accept as our home. Yet, it was never really home to us. We were
second-class citizens, leftovers of a dying race, and the Others took
advantage of it. . . .
Spiritual
and Nightly Escapades in Our Country’s 2nd
Summer Capital
Jesus Deytiquez
©
Copyright 2018 by Jesus Deytiquez
|
 |
This
is about my retreat in a dreaded center atop a mountain city during the
last year of my college days, and my reflections about it.
*****
When
I was graduating in college, we were required to attend a four days
and three nights retreat in Tagaytay City. I was the chairman of the
electoral board of our college back then, and the schedule of the
student government election fell on the same date of our block’s
retreat, so I needed to attend an earlier retreat with other blocks
from other sections. As a consequence, I was a stranger amidst a bus
filled with people that knew each other so well. . . .
September 29, 2009
Melanie Pimentel Toth
©
Copyright 2018 by Melanie Pimentel Toth
|
 |
I
decided to write this story, because I felt like it needed
to be put down. The words (the guilt) had eaten away at me for so
long and they refused to stay cooped up anymore. This is a true,
autobiographical story that focuses on my personal struggles growing
up, the girl who pulled me out of the slump, and the details leading
up to her early death.
Trust
can be hard to come by, even for a child. Maybe even moreso for a
child, whose skin is tender still so the scars can dig deeper, stay
longer. It’s funny, really, how platitudes start to wither as
time passes; thinking back, I sometimes wonder how it was that, young
as I was, I could feel so alone. . . .
|
The
Emigration to the USA of One of the Biggest Biplanes in the World
Richard
Franklin Bishop
©
Copyright 2018
by Richard Franklin Bishop
|
|
Here
I will record a modern aerial flight that
mirrored Charles
Lindberg's trip (but in reverse). It was performed by Michael
Manousakis of Germany — A 21st
Century Hero.
It documents the courage of an
Iron Man of
the Airways
and
his Antonov
AN-2
Flight from Germany to the USA in the
largest biplane in the World. It
is also written to keep the Reader “in the know” about
what has been going on in the Aviation World, in case he hadn’t heard
about it before. . . .
|
Pearl Harbor Attack
Blue Dunwoody
©
Copyright 2018 by Blue Dunwoody
|
|
The attack
on Pearl Harbor was
a surprise to all
of America, as well
as a surprise to
Japan that it was
successful. Kenneth T.
Jackson of The Gilder
Lehrman Institute of
American History claims, "Admiral
Yamamoto had every reason
to be proud. He
had only two reasons
for immediate concern.
First, the three large
American aircraft carriers
attached to the Pacific
Fleet were not in
Pearl Harbor but were
at sea on a
practice mission, and the
Japanese aviators could
not find them." The
article writes several ships
were terminated, as well
as the crewmen
accompanying them. . . .
|
I Want To Be A Scientist
Kristen Kay Mohammed
©
Copyright 2018 by Kristen Kay Mohammed
|
|
This
is a true story, my story about a young sun-kissed girl in a small
island in a small part of the world that was told she couldn't attain
her dreams. It is a story of hope, belief in oneself and breaking
barriers. Hope you enjoy.
“Many
a man
would come who would easily dispel your beliefs, laugh and say it
cannot be done. Look upon such a man with pity, for he knows not the
power that exists within him. Never let a man tell you it cannot be
done, never let a man drown your beliefs. You are your own person,
you harness great power within you and if you believe you can conquer
the world, you can and you will conquer not the world but the entire
universe.”. . .
|
The Wrong Man
Jesse Blakers
©
Copyright 2018 by Jesse Blakers
|
|
'The
Wrong Man' shares my interpretation of hilarious stories my mother
has told me over the years about her first husband. She learnt
lessons about love and how to prioritise yourself in a relationship,
and that even if it takes one embarrassing marriage to learn those
lessons, you will end up exactly where you need to be. . . .
The Wrong Shoes
Kate Howard
©
Copyright 2018 by Kate Howard
|
 |
Three
days in the life of a gym membership. After many years
of a sedentary lifestyle (and several hundred bottles of wine) I
decide to go to the gym and lose some weight.
But it’s a lost cause from the outset.
I
realise I have been saying this for years, but this
time I really am going to do it! I am starting at
the gym
tomorrow, without fail. . . .
A No Name Story
Amb Berryman
©
Copyright 2018 by Amb Berryman
|
 |
It
was midway through
the fourth grade when it all happened. No one knew what was going to
happen. No one ever knows what’s going to happen until it
happens. After all why would they? The day before is always like any
ordinary day. It was for everyone involved in my account. . . .
The
Emotional Support Debate Is Tougher Than You Think
Katherine Vallera
©
Copyright 2018 by Katherine Vallera
Originally
published by TravelPulse
|
|
Some
of us might have gotten a good chuckle when a woman tried to bring
her “emotional support peacock” on a flight.
All
humor aside, however, the incident served to reveal an elephant in
the cabin and a far more complicated debate about how airlines treat
animals, disabled passengers and those who abuse either. . . .
Prepare To Let Me Go
Sarah Faith Nwosu
©
Copyright 2018 by Sarah Faith Nwosu
|
 |
It
was three years after the cells hibernated inside Aby's walls. The
inclement agony changed the weather in our home as we pulled in and
out of the car at Doctor Pat's order; the hospital seemed to
recognize its debilitated by their handymen as we moved Aby in the
room to the offing for her sentence. . . .
Surviving
Irma: ‘We are Caribbean People, We are Strong”
Katherine Vallera
©
Copyright 2018 by Katherine Vallera
Originally
published by TravelPulse
|
|
Shock.
Sadness. Sullenness. Anger. These are the words Antigua &
Barbuda
resident Shelaine Henry uses to describe the emotions people are
experiencing in the wake of Hurricane Irma.
Having
generated more accumulated cyclone energy than all other hurricanes
so far this season combined, Irma is the strongest storm to
have
hit this island nation in recorded history.
Shelaine
was in Antigua with her mother when the mega-storm made landfall,
while her cat wandered off and was nowhere to be found. . . .
Puerto
Rico Isolated in Wake of Hurricane Maria
Katherine Vallera
©
Copyright 2018 by Katherine Vallera
Originally
published by TravelPulse
|
|
On
Saturday, I received a message from my friend Alex Burgos, who works
as an engineer. He wrote that communication was limited and asked me
to book a flight for himself, his wife and his three-year-old son out
of Puerto Rico. I asked him where he wanted to go.
“We’re
kind of desperate,” was the message he sent.
His
limited communication was an understatement. We didn’t get in
contact again until almost 24 hours later, and even then, it was only
for a minute. . . .
#MeToo in the Travel Industry
Katherine Vallera
©
Copyright 2018 by Katherine Vallera
Originally
published by TravelPulse
|
|
It
happened the first day of a travel industry conference.
I
walked into an elevator at 8:45 am. There were already two large men
with menacingly large builds inside. I turned to face the doors as
they closed.
“You
have nice hair,” commented one standing behind me. . . .
Fiji
Resort's Animal Rescue Initiative
Katherine Vallera
©
Copyright 2018 by Katherine Vallera
Originally
published by TravelPulse
|
|
She
emerged from the private island resort’s gardens, cradling a
small creature wrapped in a fleece blanket. It definitely wasn’t
your typical bundle of joy.
Instead,
it was an adorable baby fruit bat that gazed back with glistening
wide eyes full of wonder, conveying innocence, vulnerability and
curiosity. . . .
Hitchhiking in Middle Earth
Brittany Rohm
©
Copyright 2018 by Brittany Rohm
|
|
I had no plans, no itinerary, no idea, really. But
that's what
made getting rides from strangers exciting--if also terrifying, at
times.
Encumbered
by a
hefty backpack, I trudged along Highway 1. The aroma of grass
cleansed by rain wafted past on a summer breeze, and I paused to
drink in the scent. I admired the rolling hills, the sheep bleating
their hellos, and the dusk settling over the New Zealand countryside.
. . .
|
Heartbeats
Mausumi Phukan Baruah
©
Copyright 2018 by Mausumi Phukan Baruah
|
|
The
little girl is
running here and there, playing with other children. Her hairs
flowing, eyes shining and cheeks glowing. She has a naughty smile in
her face just like her father. That smile is infectious. It creates
happiness all around. The guy is looking at her with content. “She
has grown up so fast!, My Princess”. He murmured and smiled
silently. Her mother is sitting next to him, a beautiful lady, calm,
quiet, just opposite to the father and daughter. . . .
Nosebleed
Shelby Dyer
©
Copyright 2018 by Shelby Dyer
|
 |
For
as long as I can remember, I have always been terrified of
nosebleeds. They have always been regular occurrences throughout my
lifetime and the bloody inconveniences affect everyone in my family,
especially during the dry seasons. The fluctuating Colorado weather
that surrounded me was not cooperative to these reappearances,
either. But it wasn’t until I was around eight years of age did
I develop an unnecessarily dramatic horror to even the smallest
scarlet droplets seeping down anyone’s face. . . .
Autobiography of Michaela Nelson
Michaela Nelson
©
Copyright 2018 by Michaela Nelson
|
 |
I
was born on May 26th 1999 at Northern Colorado Medical Center
Hospital in Greeley, Colorado. I lived in Kersey Colorado for
only a short five years of my childhood. As far back as I can
remember I was always outside doing my own thing, and my mom and dad
were always fighting when dad got home from work. I was little, I did
not know what the difference was, that was just how life was when dad
got home from work. If only I knew what I know now! . . .
I Am Cigarette
Prateek Jain
©
Copyright 2018 by Prateek Jain
|
 |
I
AM cigarette And I AM
yours…..
This story is about me, I am a cigarette…
Everyone wants me… Many people pretend as if I am their first
girlfriend, many of them treat me as a bad habit, and yet all of them
want me badly and madly.
When
I say "Everybody", there
is no limit, no boundaries, no category, and no age limit to my
fascination.
Because where ever you go, you find me at your
SERVICE……………
No One Ever Left Behind
Christopher Mathai
©
Copyright 2018 by Christopher Mathai
|
 |
JOURNAL
18: “We stormed the beaches of Normandy and have begun our push
into the
Nazi
heartland. We’ve traveled through France and made it about 100
miles from the gates of Germany.
Our platoon is currently stationed in an abandoned town that we found
on the way. I read
a damaged sign in the front of the town and figured out that the name
of it is Dolfenberg.
I’ve
been with my squad for a few weeks already and I’ve already
started assessing each of them. . . .
When
the Old Life Ends a New Life Must Begin
Patricia Pedross
©
Copyright 2018 by Patricia Pedross
|
 |
One
o'clock in the morning and I found myself to be wide awake, even
after a 25 hour journey during which I had hardly slept, choosing to
indulge in watching one movie after another instead. The city was
still bustling even at this hour and I craned my neck trying to get a
look at the enormous statues which hovered above us. They were at the
centre of the many roundabouts we navigated and my head spun left and
right as my attention was caught by what I was later to realize were
the many shrines along the way. . . .
|
A Letter to my Rapist
Aubrey Grace
©
Copyright 2018 by Aubrey Grace
|
|
My
high school English teacher gave us an assignment, and the assignment
was to write about a time that changed my life forever. Keep in mind
the assignment was supposed to be two paragraphs. Two paragraphs
turned into two pages and suddenly I found myself pouring my heart
out about the moment that defined the rest of my life; the night I
was raped. After my rape I wanted to make a difference, and the
perfect way to do that was call attention to it and let people know
the real aftermath and healing. Without further ado, A Letter to my
Rapist. . . .
|
Self
Doubt
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2018 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
Most
writers, even the best of them, experience periods of self-doubt
about their writing skills and work. John Steinbeck, author
of
"The Grapes of Wrath" and many other novels, was one of the
most successful authors of the 20th century. But even he did
not escape self-doubt.
I
tried to write this book the way lives are being lived not the way
books are written.
— John
Steinbeck
I’m willing to bet that all writers have
experienced a moment, somewhere along the way, when they doubted
whether the work they were doing was any good. That seems to happen
even to writers who have been successful in the past. No one knows why
– it seems to be a hazard of the trade. . . .
|
Sarojini - A Window to the World
of the Unseen People
Shiny
Kesavan
©
Copyright 2018 by Shiny Kesavan
|
|
Let me tell you a story
today... a real story... a story that hit me so hard that it took me
months to put it down on paper. A story that changed the way I looked
at life. A story that showed me the different shades of courage,
self-respect, sacrifice and dignity.
The story of a person -
unseen, unknown, always present among us but never acknowledged. . . .
|
The Heir
Sreya Sarkar
©
Copyright 2018 by Sreya Sarkar
|
|
The
Heir is a story about a young man’s aspiration to make it big
in the music World and how that makes him take a complex emotional
route to connect to the aging owner of a music company, who is
desperate to find a successor. . . .
|
Serenity Now
Penelope Laurence
©
Copyright 2018 by Penelope Laurence
|
|
We all know the
type. Those of a particularly hysterical nature whose friends
regularly murmur to each other “that one’s got premature
heart attack written all over her.” I know this person very
well because most of the time it’s me. And I’ve done all
the things the experts say to do; the breathing, the yoga, and more calming
visualisation exercises than you can poke a chakra stick at, and not
much changed.
This is why I was
more than a little sceptical when a friend suggested I spend a
weekend at Spa Eastman (895 chemin des Diligences, Eastman), just a
few hours east of Montreal nestled in Québec’s Eastern
Townships. A place where, according to their literature, I was to
“learn how to regain my feeling of well-being and to get back
in touch with my inner self.”. . .
.
|
.
Happiness
Ofelia Torres
©
Copyright 2018 by Ofelia Torres
|
|
What
does it mean to be happy? To me happiness is an illusion. The
happiness we see in movies, and on social media is nothing more than a
front. I mean come on, nothing is that perfect. To be that perfectly
happy must be fake. Even if they are happy for the moment, for how
long will it last? I guess I will never be happy until I can make
myself happy. The problem is that I don’t know what
happiness is. I guess most of my life I am fake happy. . . .
Woman by the Wayside
Akber Ayub ©
Copyright 2018 by Akber Ayub
| 
|
A few years ago, I was traversing interior Kerala,
Southern India, gathering material for a coffee-table travel book. I
was in Thirunelly, a green hilly outpost in Wayanad, Kerala, known
for its ancient temples and fabulous trekking trails. On a cool
Sunday morning, dawn was just breaking over the hills when I stepped
out of my hotel room. The air was filled with the trills and cries of
dulcet birds. And gnarled old trees whispered under a steady cool
breeze. While I tramped over a long-winding track, a pariah dog from
the slumbering village tagged along and kept pace.
Coming out of a bend in the rutted track I nearly bumped
into the woman by the wayside. Her eyes bored into mine; holding my
gaze until I looked away. I blinked, even as my mind registered her
doleful eyes. Intrigued, I broke my stride, regarding her warily. Her
eyes promptly welled with tears and a thin streak rolled down her
cheeks. . . .
|
Ghostly Figures
Margie
Hofman
©
Copyright 2018 by Margie Hofman
|
|
. . . .Since
I was a young child, I think I was five, I always had a vivid
imagination. I would hear people talking about someone, and the next
day it was mentioned in conversation. . . .
My
father was in the army and we used to mention him in our prayers
every night. My mother said “Now your father is in Germany “
One evening at about 7pm I stared at the wall and saw a vision of my
father driving his tank, but he turned to me and smiled. I knew he
would be all right. I did not know where Germany was . I told my
mother that I had seen a picture of my Dad in a tin box (I had never
seen a tank) and she said “Don’t ever tell me if you see
anything like that again” and I never did. . . .
|
The Nostalgia of Durga Puja Festival of Chakradharpur
Shivaji
K.
Moitra
©
Copyright 2018 by Shivaji K. Moitra
|
|
The
Upanishads
mention that the cosmos resonated with the all pervading sound ‘OM’
at the beginning of Time. But Time cannot be perceived without
awareness. So God created the human beings to perceive Time and also
to wonder at His grand creations.
Ever
since, our
religious beliefs, sweet and sour memories and our nostalgia have
been our companions until death because time never pauses for
anybody.
Quite
a few of my
cherished childhood memories revolve around the DURGA PUJA Festival
at the Bengali Association of Chakradharpur. . . .
Adventures in Pet Sitting
Terri Rimmer
©
Copyright 2018 by Terri Rimmer
|
 |
After
pet sitting for years on my own for friends and family I decided to
officially try my hand through a local pet service in Sept. 2003.
I
have since gone on to work for two other pet sitting services since
that time but these are just some of the interesting things that I
experienced before that.
As
if I hadn't had enough adventures on my own, I had no idea my new job
would involve skinned knees, leash rope burn, jogging after wayward
animals, coordinating alarm codes to match my walk around a house,
matching personalities to duties, and coaxing jealous furry siblings
to at least tolerate one another while the other one ate. . . .
Things
Are Never As They Seem
Robert Flournoy
©
Copyright
2017 by Robert Flournoy
|
|
As a young
boy, sitting quietly around the dinner table at our family's old
farmhouse, my parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents shared a
wealth of folk and family lore during dinner—and in the idle
time after, in front of the fire. With no TV, and unreliable radio
reception in rural Alabama of the 1950s, we practiced the age old but
now fading art of just plain talking. As a result of those moments, I
can appreciate the passing down of stories in ancient cultures that
did not have the written word. I also understand how, over time,
younger generations, completely spellbound and enthralled by these
stories, could and did slowly change the tone and content of what
they had heard. I have never retold the story of Irving Reedy, but it
has festered in my mind over the years, growing from the seeds of
conversations around that old dinner table so many years ago. . . .
The Train
Karen Osborn
©
Copyright 2018 by Karen Osborn
|
 |
We
lay in bed that night, just as we did every night at promptly 9pm, and we talked about our days. I was only four
or five at the time,completely unbiased of the world still
surprisingly. We talked about daycare and about the upcoming months, we
talked about if I wanted to get married or if boys were still gross, we
talked about everything under the sun. Except we never talked about my
father. In fact, my mother never said two words about him after he
left.
But
I remember one night when she told me it would all be okay, and I
didn’t have to worry as there will always be light at the end of the
tunnel. That’s when I turned to her and asked a very loaded question
for a child, one that I didn’t think was anything to think about. It
was child’s logic to me, but yet that question has stuck with my mother
everyday. With little tears in my eyes and a heavy heart in my chest, I
turned to her and asked very quietly, “mama, is the light at the end of
the tunnel another train?”. . .
|
Learning to Appreciate the Sport of Curling
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2017 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
A
few years ago in the small town of Naseby, New Zealand, we developed
an appreciation for the sport of curling. Prior to this, curling had
been one of those sports (like fencing and water aerobics) we saw
only on TV during the Olympics. And while we assumed that
participants were skilled at what they did, we had little
understanding of why grown-ups would chase a chunk of stone down the
ice with brooms. . . .
I Can't Believe I Almost Didn't Go to Oaxaca
Lorenza Seldner
©
Copyright 2018 by Lorenza Seldner
|
 |
While I was working in
a Manufacturing Plant at my hometown, a close friend and I decided to
utilize our upcoming holiday to take a trip to Oaxaca. Although
neither the companionship nor the trip itself turned out to be what
I'd expected (especially since Oaxaca was considered a violent place
at the time), I cannot help to smile each time I reminisce about the
short period of time spent down there. . . .
Befriending
The Lizard Man
Lauren
Buss
©
Copyright 2018 by Lauren Buss
|
 |
A
day in mid-February sees beautiful weather here in Houston. Pleasant
temperatures are more common than they are made out to be in this
strange place where winter feels like spring, spring feels like
summer, and summer feels like the belly of the devil. The mildness of
this particular Friday morning coaxes me out of hiding and onto the
porch. I am armed with a cup of coffee and my busily annotated copy
of Donleavy’s The
Ginger Man, a personal recipe for
relaxation. . . .
Franco
and Billy
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2018 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
The
first week after we moved to Southwest Florida, Kenny joined Marco
Island Fitness Club. The
owner,
Bob, introduced him to Franco, another retired cop from Chicago.
Franco was the head of the
Homicide
Division in Chicago. They hit it off immediately. Another friend he
met was Billy from New
Jersey,
a sweetheart of a man, with a crazy sense of humor, a real character,
and totally uninhibited. A
funny
guy, who makes everybody in the room laugh. The three of them
together started being great
friends
and buddies. They had a lot of fun together, with a great camaraderie
between them. . . .
More...
The
Pursuit of Unity in Time of Destruction
Elias Gebru
©
Copyright 2018 by Elias Gebru
|
|
Currently
our population is facing many worldwide challenges such as global
warming causing ironical swiping flood for some and a blazing
wildfire for others. Eminent devastating nuclear war threats terrorize
humanity. Nature and evil nurture; unveiling the worst out of them! . . .
It's You
Chessica Luckett
©
Copyright 2018 by Chessica Luckett
|
 |
It's You is
a romance story about a man that finally realizes that the
one he was meant to become one with, was right in front of him.
And just like that it was
over. Christian Smith, like so many other men here in Austin, Texas,
was a fool. A fool because he let the only woman that ever set his
soul on fire, get away. He splashed water on his face to wash away
the truth, to wash away what was so clearly being shown in front of
him. Christian ran out of the restroom and into the chapel.
"Stoppp!" He
yelled out. . . .
The Little Red Schoolhouse
Karen
Radford Treanor
©
Copyright
2018 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
|
Not
long ago, the
last one room
school house in my home town closed
forever, and a
page in local
history was irrevocably turned. Looking back on the experience of
attending classes at the Little Red Schoolhouse, I sometimes wonder
if I lived it or have a false memory from some old TV family drama. In
my mind’s eye I walk
through
the back fields, go down
the
small road
past the large new elementary
school, and stand once more in the tiny cleared space before the
front door, worn down by many busy little feet over the
years. The grass is beginning to encroach, the long tough witch grass
that springs up rapidly once a
clearing
is not often used. . . .
|
The Lazarus Effect
Carol Arvo
©
Copyright 2018 by Carol Arvo
|
|
It
was dark, cold, and empty, a lifeless emptiness that seeped into
every cell in our bodies, an emptiness that forbade talking. It
demanded fearful whispers that vibrated against the walls and crept
back at us with eerie boding. Hesitation slowed our steps and looming
shadows surrounded us, as if soldiers were incorporating us into
their ranks.
We discerned a slight, barely detectable odor of
nonexistence around us, but continued to bravely make our way into
the pit, down, further, until we were in the center of the lifeless
cavity. We sat on stiff leather seats made hard by the cold. We
huddled close together and pulled our collars up, hoping for
protection from the damp blackness. Due to a fluke of traffic, or
rather the lack of it, we arrived before life itself had entered the
great hall and now we must wait in its belly. . . .
More...
Cloaks of Uncertainty
Diwa Shaw
©
Copyright 2018 by Diwa Shaw
|
 |
The
squeaking
of the asymmetrical fan had settled in the earlobe as indifferently
as the dust who had been the local occupant of the fan since the
cleaning break, last summer. The mirror in the center, and our
impetuous young lifestyle, required a modest frame and some
scrubbing. The disheveled room was a transient set from a movie. . . .
Rising Above Negative Circumstances
Allison McClurg
©
Copyright 2018 by Allison McClurg
|
 |
Elizabeth
Smart was a 14 year old girl in Utah who had woken up to a strangers
hand over her mouth and was abducted. A few months before this
happened you could describe her family as the “perfect family”.
The kind of family that you would see in the movies. One day her
family was walking down the street and they saw a homeless guy. He
did not ask for money, but instead asked for work. Being that type of
family, her dad said that he could come work on their roof. . . .
Jolie
James Cowles
©
Copyright 2018 by James Cowles
|
 |
It
was February when our fifteen-year-old cock-a-poo, Missy passed away
and
we of course were devastated. She was barely seven-weeks old when we
got
her and she had quickly become a treasured member of our family. After
she died, one of the most difficult things for us was to come
home and see an empty window where she used to sit; the one she
always watched from, waiting for our return. . . .
Brave Knight
Cattibrie Chapin
©
Copyright 2018 by Cattibrie Chapin
|
 |
Once
upon a time, in a land filled with magic, a brave knight traveled
about to lend his services to those in need. He belonged to no
kingdom, and had long since left his family and friends behind in
pursuit of his own happiness. The knight knew from a very young age
that he was only good at one thing: protecting people.
His
life dream was to help the defenseless and save as many good people
as possible. He roamed the land freely, well loved and respected by
most kingdoms. His reputation as a kind and generous protector grew
as he assisted elderly people, stopped bandits, and even fought
monsters. Indeed, he was a mighty and noble knight. However, as he
saved villages and defeated villains, he became sadder and sadder. . . .
More...
Together Again for the First Time
Rosi Hollinbeck
©
Copyright 2018 by Rosi Hollinbeck
|
 |
For over sixty
years, my mother knew she had siblings who had been given up for
adoption. It wasn't until she was in her seventies that she was able to
meet her long-lost sister.
They moved around each other in a
tight circle, like two aged, heavy fighters looking for the first
punch. Then they went into a clinch. A groan came from Helen, the
shorter of the two elderly women. Stunned and nearly speechless, she
finally croaked out a few words. "I don't know where to begin. I have
so much to ask. So much I want to know. Where have you been? How have
you been? Who are we? How can we look so much alike and not have found
each other before now?" . . .
|
16 Lake Avenue, Ocean Park, NJ
Matthew Conte
©
Copyright 2018 by Matthew Conte
|
|
It
would be easy to act jaded in a place like the dining room of the
Rainforest Cafe on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. It's at the
bottom of a neon hill, a miniature Vegas strip so bright from the wax
museum, the arcade, the miniature golf, the hulking, decaying
dinosaur models, that it could never fully be night, and in fact, we
did act a little jaded. Less than a week after the fire that took our
apartment and our belongings, we stopped in the Amazon-themed
gimmick as the last of an all-out tourist blitz of the connection
between lakes Erie and Ontario, confronted with the cheeriest of
Canadian waitresses. . . .
Cows of a Lesser Hue
Bob Dunlap
©
Copyright 2018 by Bob Dunlap
|
 |
This story is
true, for the most part. Embellishment is part and parcel of
the nature of this beast. Even though the general synopsis is the
simple act of riding a motorcycle through a bunch of cows and the
aftermath, it makes sort of a story with a little imagination.
Early one summer morning, while heading to
work down a country road on my beloved scoot, upon cresting a hill, I
saw that the road ahead was, alas, covered with cows. They
were big cows with big horns, and I slowed down in a big
hurry. Weaving through them, I yelled over to the nearby
House of Booger People, “Hey!!! Your cows are loose!”
. . .
Ladies of the Skies
Caroline Jensen
©
Copyright 2018 by Caroline Jensen
|
Phoebe Fairgrave Omlie |
An
aviatrix is a woman aviator, a woman pilot, or a woman flyer. Another
term, although not commonly used, is aviatress.
In
the 20th century (the 1900s) women progressed significantly in the
area of aviation. The first pilot’s license issued to a woman
was in France in 1910. The United States first issued a pilot’s
license a year later. In Canada, Ontario did not have a licensed
female pilot until 1928. Phoebe Fairgrave Omlie became the first female
Transport Pilot in 1927 and was also the first woman to become a
licensed aircraft mechanic. . . .
Alone at New Year
Aditi Srivastava
©
Copyright 2018 by Aditi Srivastava
|
 |
It
was 22:00 when I was done dressing up for New Year’s Eve party.
I started dressing up at 21:56 and was done by 22:00. This was the
exact time my new year started to screw up. So, the situation was
that that our hostel’s owner collected 100 Rupees from every
girl who couldn’t make it to their home this New Year’s
Eve. I also contributed for the pity party. At that time I thought
something is better than nothing.
Well,
I was dressed up, I put on a sweet looking beanie, not only because
it matched with my clothes but also because I didn’t wanted to
comb my hair. My roommate and I went downstairs (at the party venue)
and were asked to have dinner, which they shouldn’t have
prepared, even for a person dying from hunger (because it definitely
not good to be cursed by dying person). . . .
Como Se Llama, Bonita
Reagan Brownell
©
Copyright 2018 by Reagan Brownell
|
 |
“Hips
Don’t Lie” plays all the time in my house. I am seven
years old, and I know all the words. I especially like the singer,
but I wish he let the girl sing more. I don’t think I’ve
heard any other voice like hers before. When my family listens to the
song, Mom won’t let us play it too loudly because she is trying
to work, but we all dance anyway, and sometimes we even convince her
to join us. But the best is when I’m in the car with Dad and we
can listen to it as loud as we want and sing as loud as we want. . . .
Z. J. Loussac
Steven C. Levi
©
Copyright 2018 by Steven C. Levi
|
 |
Zachery
Joshua Loussac. But usually it’s Z. J.
Loussac; a name synonymous with Anchorage, Alaska. He was the city’s
most colorful mayor, most notable rags-to-riches personal success
story and a philanthropist who shocked the city with his largess:
$500,000 by the time of his death in 1965, half his personal wealth –
about $7 million in today’s dollars. The city library is named
in his honor and his personal art collection – donated to the
public – is as close to an artistic fingerprint of Alaska as
one can find.
But Loussac was more than a
local hero. His life was
symbolic of the last century. He was an Horatio Alger character in
the flesh. . . .
The Trustworthy
Shirin Mulla
©
Copyright 2018 by Shirin Mulla
|
 |
I
hear thunder!!
I
hear thunder!!
Oh,
don’t you?
Pitter
patter raindrops pitter patter raindrops….
I
am wet through..... !!
Sang
little Diana as cloud spelled raindrops on her pinkish cheeks. Today
the road seemed to be unusual than the other days. Thunder echoed in
the valley. She enjoyed the changing weather although it carried a
dark air. Soon she heard something in the bushes to the roadside. A
small white-brownish, hairy puppy wailed at her as she looked at him
pettily. He had bright, sparkling ambitious eyes. But they were
urging for help! It might have met with an accident it seemed…!
More...
Sometime In October
Richard Wall
©
Copyright 2018 by Richard Wall
|
|
Sometime
in October of 1962, my 12 year old self was huddled down in a
somewhat muddy, newly dug trench in the cold, clear weather outside
my school in East Point, Ga. That part of Georgia is known for its
red clay, and I faced a wall of red dirt with the occasional root
sticking out. I was not alone. My classmates and teacher were there
too.
Somewhere
between Florida and Cuba, military men were coming close to a
decision which could render the area near that town and school a
radioactive cinder. The warning sirens had sounded, my teacher’s
face going white with fear, and we students were rushed to the
trenches, where it was believed we would be “safe”. Whatever that meant....
More...
Movie
Buff
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2018 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
In
1951, when I was eight years old, dad started taking my twin sister
and me
with
him to the
movies. He was quite a movie buff, and enjoyed them immensely.
Most
weeks in the 50’s, after their work week was over on Fridays,our
family would
drive to Springfield on RT 66 Highway from Conway. Mom
would
go shopping.
Dad
always got
himself a large popcorn and coke. He’d buy me a Mound’s
candy
bar, my
favorite, with a Coke, and Connie a 7-Up candy bar and Coke.
It
was usually
either the Fox or Gillioz Theaters. The Fox was next to the J.C. Penney
Store on the
square in downtown Springfield, Missouri....
Old Gray
Odelia Chan
©
Copyright 2018 by Odelia Chan
|
 |
Odelia Chan is an undergraduate
currently studying for her English degree. Passionate about the way
words chase themselves across the pages of books, she has decided only
a year ago to pursue the lonely and often disappointing path of being a
writer. Living in the country side of Canada has inspired her to pick
up the pen and explore the brave new world of writing. She lives with
her seven boisterous siblings and two wonderful parents.
Hunger
tears through me, as painful as the jagged gash on my leg. I can
barely lift my head an inch above the gritty forsaken ground.
Something pants ahead: I know what it is.
It
is a dog gone wild.
We are fellow sufferers. Enemies. . . .
The
Wallaby Wars
Karen
Radford Treanor
©
Copyright
2017 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
|
Ignoring
almost all the major points on the list of things our new home must
have, we made an offer on an outsize country cottage in rural
Tasmania. We were entranced by the sunshine, flowers, swooping
swallows, soaring eagles and the view of the nearby d’Entrecasteaux
Channel. The cottage sat on the outskirts of Gordon, a town so small
it isn’t really there at all—but oh! the views; the
crystal air; the balmy temperatures and frisky breezes!
It was
a day that any real estate agent would be proud to have ordered in
specially: warm but not too warm; Marshmallow Fluff clouds floating
over the nearby Channel, everything in the garden looking its best.
There were even bumblebees, big story-book bumblebees, something I
hadn’t seen in nearly 40 years of living on the other side of
the big brown island continent of Australia.
It was
only much later we discovered our New Found Land was inhabited by
monsters....
More...
Antique
World
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2018 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
My
dad started dabbling in antiques in the 70’s, buying living
room and bedroom
pieces that were beautiful. When he died in 1981, they were left
to
my mom.
I’ve
liked arts and crafts since the 60’s, being a creative woman,
who
loves
to make things. In 2003, after my mom died, I got the antique bug
myself.
I loved going to all the antique stores in Branson and Ozark, Missouri.
It’s a very popular business in that area. I loved browsing in
them,
sorting out the quality from the junk. . . .
Angel and Thunder
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2017 by Bonnie Boerema
|
Angel
| 
Thunder |
My
husband’s a retired cop, and when we met he was living in
Missouri, out in the
boonies on his forty two acre place that he’d bought in 1998.
He lived one hundred
miles from my home in Springfield, Missouri. While he was a cop in
Chicago,
he took three vacations a year to drive down to his place, and work.
When
we met in 2008, in Springfield, he drove me down there to see his
place,
and
what he’d done with it. He’d mowed a large portion of
lush green grass in
the
front and back to make a beautiful lawn, and bush hogged all the
fields with
his
tractor. He also got the driveway paved, and had him a three car
garage built.
In
it he kept his red Ford Bronco, riding lawn mower, tractor, and his
many tools he’d
accumulated over the years, hanging on the back wall over his work
bench.
When
we drove up in the back drive by the garage and back porch, I spotted
two
horses.
Thunder was a male Appaloosa, and a real match for Kenny. He’d
tried
to
ride him twice. Thunder bucked him off both times. He had a
personality all
his
own. He took to me as soon as I walked up to the fence. His two very
large,
shiny
eyes full of mischief, were warming up to me. I’d lived in
Springfield most
of
my life, and wasn’t familiar with horses. . . .
|
London
through the Eyes of a Cabbie
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2017 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
There is much to
see in London and taxi driver, Dominic Shannon, will help you take it
in – from a unique perspective. From the moment you enter his
cab you embark on an adventure; not just moving around the city, but
observing it. Shannon has been photographing London for years,
capturing thousands of moments in time, from vistas to vagrants, and
he gladly shares his views with his customers....
More...
|
They
Will Always Be His Kids
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2017 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
There
are many kids that need help finding their way in the world, and
there are many ways to help them. Lee Roberson spent a large chunk
of his life working with disadvantaged children, and he found it
rewarding in a special way.
Lee
saw a lot of kids go through Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Center
(Tel-Hi) in San Francisco, and he saw a lot of change during his
nearly 20 years there, but one thing always stayed the same: "To
be successful," he said, "You have to put your heart and
soul into the job."...
More...
Loo-See
Barry Carver
©
Copyright 2017 by Barry Carver
|
|
On the occasion of
visiting Hadrian’s Wall (The ancient Roman dividing point
between Scotland and England) I have this day met a fine border
collie. I thought her name was “Lucy” but I have since
been informed that it is “Loo-See.”
Being a guard dog of the
highest order, the name fits her. For I am told, whenever there is a
curious noise or action, it’s this lovely black and white
canine who is the first to go and have a look see....
|
The Sinking Ship
Author Unknown...
Translation by
Hamza Balol
|
|
The
teacher was telling his students the story of a sinking ship in the
middle of the sea. On board, there was a couple and a lifeboat for only
one person. All of a sudden, the man pushed his wife aside, jumped into
the boat, and sailed away from the sinking ship, leaving his wife to
face her impending death alone. As the ship began to sink in the sea,
the woman shouted at her husband..... At this moment, the teacher
stopped telling the story and asked the students, "What in your opinion
did she say to him?..."
|
Glen's Bakery and Restaurant
Leslie Soule
©
Copyright 2017 by Leslie Soule
|
|
Crescent
City lies on the California coast, just before the Oregon border. It
is by the ocean and also features mountainous regions, and redwoods.
For natural beauty, it is one of California’s best-kept
secrets. But for all the city’s scenic charm, it also contains
that staple of small towns that serves as a gathering place, a
location for the acquisition of gustatory pleasures – the
diner. This particular diner is called Glen’s Bakery and
Restaurant, and its story is unique and inspiring....
|
A Teddy Bear Named Timmy
David Winnie
©
Copyright 2017 by David Winnie
|
|
When
I hear Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” I give a tiny
shudder. We had white Christmases growing up in the late 1960’s
in Everett, Washington. Decidedly not as romantic as Mr. Crosby’s
songs. Our house was old and uninsulated, with a small oil heater in
the living room huffing out a halo of heat that rarely would find its
way around the corner and up the staircase to the unfinished attic my
four older brothers and I slept in....
Angels
Among Us
Linda
Davis Biggs
©
Copyright 2017 by Linda Davis Biggs
|
|
Most
residents of Middle Tennessee will not forget May 1, 2010. We
received around
fifteen inches of rain in a little over two days. The ground
quickly became
saturated. Most rivers began to overflow. Our property is
approximately 40 feet
from the banks of Mill Creek. Mill Creek is affected by the
condition of Cumberland
River. The Cumberland River levels are regulated by the authorities employed
at the Corps of Engineers....
Grandmother
Norma Tekell
©
Copyright 2017 by Norma Tekell
|
Grandmother Edith |
It
was the summer between my second and third grades of school. I sat
on the steps and watched as daddy finished attaching his homemade
camper to the back of his old blue pickup. Momma and my brothers
hurriedly began packing our belongings in the back of the truck. I
called out to daddy “Why do we have to move to Kansas?” He responded,
“It is our gypsy blood calling us” As I
sat there I began to think of all the thing I would miss about this
place; all my kitties, our pet pig Onkie, the daily seafood platter,
the sunsets over the Inland Water Way, the daily trips to the
outhouse, the sounds from Paris Island, the smell of marsh grass,
pine trees, and the wide open spaces....
Silence Is Not Always Golden
My Selective Mutism Story
Nicole Van Zyl
©
Copyright 2017 by Nicole Van Zyl
|
|
One
day in class
when I was in grade 3, we had to read to our teacher. When it was my
turn to read, I stood next to her and read from the book we were
given, very softly. Everyone in class couldn't believe it. "Wow,
she's talking!" they said. Now you might ask, whats the big deal
with that? Well, what if I told you that I had Selective Mutism?
Selective
Mutism
is a severe form of anxiety disorder when the person finds it
difficult to talk in certain social settings. It was once thought to
be rare but now it is believed to be more common than previously
thought....
Single Mom
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2017 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
In
1968 my husband’s job changed him from the day shift to the
night shift. The guys that worked nights were mostly single or
divorced. He started heading to the bars with some of them when his
shift ended at 1:30 p.m., and coming home about daylight. Women
started calling the house.
In
1971 tragedy struck. A twenty one year old drunk driver from Kansas
City, going over one hundred miles an hour, with a horse trailer
behind his truck hit us on the left side of our car. Our little
middle son, Chris was killed instantly from a head injury. Neither
me, my husband, David or Crystal had a scratch on us....
Country
Cafe
Robert Flournoy
©
Copyright
2017 by Robert Flournoy
|
|
Drove down to a little
country cafe this morning with a friend 10 years my senior, a gentle
soul who set a needed mood. A cool sunny blustery Autumn morning with
leaves swirling,wild eyed horses running in pastures with rolls of
fresh hay snuggled between split rail fences and clear running brooks
and rills. 10 miles later we arrived in a dirt parking lot which was
full of old trucks, and a couple of tractors....
Reflectons on Snow
Norma Tekell
©
Copyright 2017 by Norma Tekell
|
 |
Sitting
here in the den, in my comfy blue recliner, dressed in my blue fleecy
lounging pants that are adorned with snowflakes, my old navy blue
tee-shirt, and leopard print slippers, I can see the snow falling.
Those big fluffy looking snowflakes that Daddy called “goose
down flakes.” In my memories, I remember this type of flakes
as the ones that stayed around for awhile. As a child I thought
snow was on the ground from late November to early March. However,
as an adult I feel there were days, in that span of time, the ground
was clear of that white covering. I hear the weatherman from Channel
4 in the background saying we may get up to six inches of snow. As I
continue to watch the big fluffy flakes dancing to the ground,
memories of snow in my childhood years fills my mind....
|
Tony
Bennett
Part
of San Francisco
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2017 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
It
would be hard to find people in San Francisco who haven’t heard
of Tony Bennett and can’t sing along with at least part of I
Left My Heart in San Francisco.
Anthony
Benedetto, or Tony Bennett as the world knows him, has sung the
ballad thousands of times: At the Fairmont Hotel (where a statue of
him now stands), at the 50th anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge,
when the Bay Bridge reopened after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake,
at the San Francisco Symphony Hall, and at championship games for the
49ers and Giants. It plays at AT&T Park after every Giants
victory, and it’s heard in bars, restaurants, and nightclubs
all over the city....
Mabel
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2017 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
My
grandma Mabel was quite a woman. She was born in 1902. She married
grandpa Luther in 1920, at age eighteen. He was five years older than
her. He was born in 1898, and he’d been a cowboy out west
before they married.
Her
dad was Will, and her mom was Bertie. She called them Pa Pa and
Momma. They farmed west of Conway, Missouri. They had eight
children, five sons and three daughters. Grandma Mabel was their
middle daughter. Grandpa Luther farmed, too, as did many in the
midwest in the 1920’s 30’s, 40’s and 50’s. He
was good at it, and made them a good living with it. Grandma Mabel
helped him....
|
Autumn Leaves
Judith Nakken
©
Copyright 2017 by Judith Nakken
|
|
Roger
Williams’ most impressive piano solo haunted my mid-1950’s
days. It was all over the radio and I tortured myself with the
50 cent sheet music at whatever old piano I happened to be near at the
time. Rogerette Williams I was never going to be, and it has only
recently occurred to me that that piano music might have been the
impetus for my obsession with leaves - gold, red, brown leaves. Autumn
leaves.
Although,
my stepmother was enamored of the much touted New England leaves. Each
late October in those years she wheedled and cajoled until Daddy
Bud fired up the old ’39 Ford and drove her round trip from
D.C. to Vermont or some such place over a weekend. A whole roll of
Kodak Brownie film would be devoted to trees, its output forced upon
co-workers and apartment neighbors who didn’t escape in time. And me,
when I was in residence. I rather liked the pictures, up to
a point....
More...
Remember to Breathe
Robin Y. Myers
©
Copyright 2017 by Robin Y. Myers
|
 |
I
didn’t think that I was going to get out alive. Not just once
but numerous times throughout my life. I thought that life itself
would kill me, some crazy person who simply hated me would kill me,
or I would have killed myself.
Two
events occurred early on in my life, when I was too young to remember
them.
First,
my father was in the Air Force and was stationed in Germany during
the Viet Nam War.
Second,
when I was just three or four years old, I’m told that my
mother left the keys in the ignition of my stepfathers blue Pontiac
convertible. The car was parked at the top of the small hill in our
driveway. Somehow the car was started and put in reverse. It backed
down the hill and across the street—into our neighbor’s
beauty shop adjacent to their house....
More...
Long Goodby
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2017 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
Mom
had been a plucky, strong, independent woman her entire adult life.
But
all of a sudden we started noticing changes in her. She had a stroke
at age sixty seven. The whole left side of her body was shaking, out
of control.
An
ambulance brought her to St. John’s Hospital in Springfield,
Missouri. Her face was jaundiced and yellow. After a few days in the
hospital, they released her. She was diagnosed with Polycythemia Vera
(PV). The doctors said she had too many red blood cells, and her
platelets, (blood clotting cells) were starting to
multiply....
Gifts
Clay Chesney
©
Copyright 2017 by Clay Chesney
|
 |
Surfing
the channels one night I came across a
documentary about infant birth defects. I usually avoid those
stories set in sterile, white, metallic hospital rooms where
the doctor describes symptoms and treatments and possibilities to new
parents who wait intently with desperation in their eyes. It
is
the place where innocence meets hard reality, and it can be difficult
to watch. But in this case the story centered on some
interesting research in the area of brain disabilities among the
newborn and I followed it for a while. What I found there was
unexpected, a revelation for me, and it had nothing to do with
medicine or treatment or science. It was the first meeting
between a young mother and her newborn daughter who was severely
disabled....
Read on...
|
Saturday with Frederick Ransom Gray
Leslie Soule
©
Copyright 2017 by Leslie Soule
|
|
It
was Saturday afternoon, around one o’ clock that I arrived at
Book Lovers bookstore in Sacramento, California, off of Madison
Avenue and Manzanita. I knew that there would be a couple of writers
there, and hoped that at some point I might be able to pull one of
them aside and speak to them about the process of writing and what
techniques they used personally in the process of writing their
novels. Upon entering the bookstore, I found that there was a small
group of people milling about near the front of the store. That’s
where a couple of tables had been set up, with authors sitting behind
them, waiting for someone to take an interest or strike up a
conversation....
The Unforgettable Christmas
Carol Rotta
©
Copyright 2017 by Carol Rotta
|
 |
Don
and I were married in March 1966 and this would be our first
Christmas together. I counted the days with the eagerness of a child
awaiting Santa Claus. The kids in our blended family, Hal 16, Vicki
13, Donette 10 and Deanne 7 would be spending the holiday with their
other parent, but Don’s dad and mom had accepted our invitation
to celebrate the holiday with us. I looked forward to becoming better
acquainted with them—and frankly, I hoped to impress them. I
wanted them to see that Don had chosen a praiseworthy wife....
|
Smaller
Dreams
Dale
Fehringer
©
Copyright 2017 by Dale Fehringer
|
|
Many
of us are faced with challenges as our loved ones age.
Sometimes, there is a way around those problems.
Gina
knew there was something wrong as soon as she walked through the
door. Her mother hadn’t put away the breakfast dishes,
and the coffee pot was still turned on. That wasn’t usual. And her
mother was sitting in the living room, by herself, instead of
bustling around the house, as was her usual behavior.
“Mom,
are you OK?” she asked....
Scottish Terrier
Bonnie Boerema
©
Copyright 2017 by Bonnie Boerema
|
|
Temperament:
Playful,Self-Assured, Alert, Fiesty, Quick, Independent.
In
the nineties, I was the proud owner of two Scottish Terriers. We got
them as tiny puppies when they were six weeks old. The first puppy
that caught my eye was an adorable little female. We named her Joy. We
found her at an expert Scottie breeder who knew her stuff, and loved
dogs. This was in the spring of 1993. She lived on a farm near to
Strafford,
Missouri....
