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Scroll down for recent stories...
The Wonderland Trail





Mort Morford

 



© Copyright 2024 by Mort Morford




Image by PNW_Photo_Repository from Pixabay

The Wonderland Trail is a trail that goes around, at approximately mid-point, (most of the time) Mount Rainier.

It is about 93 miles long and traverses glaciers, rivers, crevasses, wetlands and, of course, stunning alpine views. And it is on an active volcano. . . .

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The Transformer






Nomusa Neo Shuping


 
© Copyright 2024 by Nomusa Neo Shuping




Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

On a cold Winter morning, after a long night with the baby, Mosa is shaken by a loud bang.

She had been up all night nursing the infant and so, when this happens, she’s still asleep, almost drowning in sleep. 

There’s a tremor, almost like an earthquake, with dust spreading across the room. This sound is only heard for a brief moment and as such, cannot be an earthquake but there’s still dust.  . . .

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Memoirs of a 24/7 Chain Diner





Ella Durden



 
© Copyright 2024 by Ella Durden



Photo by Izz R on Unsplash
Photo by Izz R on Unsplash

The last time I saw him, we were standing outside. It was storming. We stood underneath the canopy of the restaurant, listening to the rain pelt down against the metal and bounce from it, creating deep puddles in the potholes of the parking lot. Rich didn’t smoke anymore, he vaped, and every now and then he would exhale a cherry scented cloud out of his lips. . . .

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Blue Pancakes





City Sayler




 
© Copyright 2024 by City Sayler


Image by webdesignprof0 from Pixabay
Image by webdesignprof0 from Pixabay

Recently, I was asked where my love for working with kids came from. At that moment, I had two options; I could give a generic answer about how I was a camp counselor for my first job, or how I’m the oldest of three siblings, but instead, I decided to share the story of my foster brother. . . .

Before The Rainbow





Debra Jo Myers



 
© Copyright 2024 by Debra Jo Myers



 
Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

 He was enraged. “Why can’t we speed this up?”

Eight hours she cried in pain and anguish. I felt helpless, like I had disconnected with what was going on right in front of me.

When my son-in-law called me sobbing yesterday, which was something I’d never seen him do in the last ten years, I left immediately. Five minutes to the hospital, but it took forever to get out of my car and walk into utter heartbreak. . . .

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From the Bank to the Boxing Ring





Scott Chaston


 
© Copyright 2024 by Scott Chaston



Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash
Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash

My wife once told me that she admired the stark contrast between my work persona and home life demeanor. She was smart to avoid the word “façade”, but it undoubtedly fit on one end of that spectrum, or perhaps both. At work, I was the boss; elsewhere just a schoolboy with an inability to assert myself. Somehow still, at the age of thirty-one, I found myself descending the back-alley steps of the local boxing gym. . . .

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Beauty





Karen Gonzales


 
© Copyright 2024 by Karen Gonzales



Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-woman-looking-at-the-mirror-7181698/
Photo by Cottonbro Studios at Pexels.
What Is someone's definition of beauty; a pretty, pleasing face to look at with a well-kept body or is it someone who's kind-hearted and has inner peace?
It is all the above, especially in America. . . .

A Letter on Sad Pages







Ude Ogbodo Okereke



 
© Copyright 2024 by
Ude Ogbodo Okereke


William Blake, The Lord answereing Job out of a whirlwind. Illustration from Wikimedia Commons.
William Blake, The Lord answereing Job out of a whirlwind. Illustration from Wikimedia Commons.

Dear Friend,

If you hear that I stepped down, kindly disregard. I did not. I only become your aborted Chief Judge, whose existence was drowned in its own baptismal water before birth. Yes. But not a step down— a defeat before the beginning of a contest— a stagger without any punch; without any wine. My gut gives essence to this truth. The bruised hope, in my crushed out being, against every odd, always sews shield from web of a maimed spider a bleached salvation to redeem my broken self. . . .

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The Old Cement House





Elizabeth Lopilato


 
© Copyright 2024 by Elizabeth Lopilato



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

    Come with me now back to 1967, when I was a child, right around the age of five.  I was moved out of my mother’s house trailer by my new father (my mother’s then boyfriend) and into an apartment with him and his sister. My new aunt would become my “Mimi”. This was such a happy experience for me. . . .

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How I Learned To Sleep Alone





Jenna Vanella



 
© Copyright 2024 by Jenna Vanella



Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash
Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

My older sister always had the ability to sleep in her own room. She was even brave enough to have her door closed, and to fall asleep to the sound of her own breath. I, on the other hand, was terrified of my room. The bed was very high off the ground, leaving too much space for any sort of being to crawl out and grab me. . . .

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The Escapist





Thomas M. Jardine


 
© Copyright 2024 by Thomas M. Jardine



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

Our move to Benjamin Grove was not without a smidgen of angst. We were leaving a two-story, 5- bedroom, turn-of-the-century ( nineteenth ) farmhouse that was sitting on 7.5 acres, and going to a 2-bedroom, 900 square foot unit in one of a dozen quads. A community that targeted seniors, though being one was not a prerequisite. . . .

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Despite the Obstacles My Family’s Philippines Perseveres 


Rosario Green

 
© Copyright 2024 by Rosario Green




Photo by Umesh Soni on Unsplash
Photo by Umesh Soni on Unsplash

Let me offer a little personal history. I come from the poorest of families where we lived in a rural town in the Philippines called Dumalag. I have 11 sisters and brothers which sure made it more difficult for us to get by.

Because we had such a large family, we struggled to meet the most basic needs, such as clothing, food, and shelter. Some days we didn’t eat at all, or subsisted only on rice. All the older children in our family had to quit school for one or more years to help take care of our younger siblings while our parents worked. . . .

Alhambra - 1940-1943



Thomas Turman


 
© Copyright 2023 by Thomas Turman




Photo by Chris F at Prexels.
Photo by Chris F at Prexels.

One of my first memories is of escape and the wonderful fear that comes from confronting something completely new. Looking at old, brown photographs my mother took of me as a four-year-old standing stiffly next to my dad in front of a blooming Poinsettia bush, squinting into the afternoon California sun. My mother’s clear, penciled title and date on the back of the photo; “Tommy, Alhambra, 1941. . . .

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Heart's Desire




Patricia M. Snell

With assistance from Carol L. Easterly


Photos by the author.
 
© Copyright 2024 by Patricia M. Snell


                                                       from the author
from the autor

What happened almost 20 years ago that left a telltale sign on our dining room ceiling? What secret was Carol hiding behind her bedroom door? This is a story of lessons learned, the hard way. . . .







Running Dogs





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

Recently, at the Queen Sofia Museum in Madrid, I saw some astonishing examples of anti-fascist propaganda posters from the years of the Spanish Civil War, posters with vibrant colors to arrest the eye and vivid images to carry a message to the masses. All this brought to mind my own experience with political persuasion, for I know a thing or two about propaganda, having seen high quality work early in my life. . . .

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A Matter of Perspective

  

 

Steven Hunley
  

 

© Copyright 2024 by Steven Hunley

 
 

Photo by Thomas Fore on Unsplash.
Photo by Thomas Fore on Unsplash.                                                         


I feel awkward even talking about this. As soon as you suggest to someone you’ve been on the Goodyear blimp, they narrow their eyes. Their skepticism slaps you in the face, and you haven’t even started the story yet.

Not one person I’ve ever told this story has said, “Hey, I did that too!” Whether or not you even believe it may depend upon where you live. People that live in San Diego are more likely to believe the story than say, people in Montana, because they don’t fly blimps in Montana. . . .

Vlad - Between Myth and History




Sandra Balteanu



 
© Copyright 2024 by 
Sandra Balteanu





 
Minature by Nikolaus Ochsenbach at Wikimedia Commons.
Minature by Nikolaus Ochsenbach at Wikimedia Commons.

The story of Dracula by Bram Stoker is by far one of my favorite books, and not only because of the mystery, suspense, intrigue, and perfectly crafted characters by the author but also for the artistic style of expressing ideas and narrating events. I read the novel eagerly on a hot summer, in the mornings when I drank my coffee with my children beside me before the heat overwhelmed us, like a well-deserved break before a day of work. . . .

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Hasuksaeng

하 숙생



Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan



Photo by Jisoo Park on Unsplash
Photo by Jisoo Park on Unsplash

When we leave home and have our first years living on our own, many of us will experience situations less comfortable and with fewer amenities than what we knew in our childhood or later in life. We might spend some of our early years in a dormitory room or a shared apartment or similar rented space, and, if our means are limited, our lodgings may even be rundown and ramshackle. I knew such conditions in my early years in Korea, but today it’s a fond memory.

The Korean word hasukjip is usually translated as boarding house, but this cannot convey the reality of my living arrangements fifty-odd years ago when I was content to live in a space the size of a walk-in closet, and with the barest furnishings, or none at all. . . .

The House That Dad Built





Sara Weber


 
© Copyright 2024 by Sara Weber


Photo by Rene Asmussen at Pexels.
Photo by Rene Asmussen at Pexels.

The Booby Bungalow sat between Nashville and Huntsville, just off the I-65 South exit for Fayetteville-Pulaski. It was the exit Dad told us to take to get to his newly built house. “Now listen”, he said, “unlike what your mom thought, I did not buy this land because of the proximity to the Booby Bungalow. I bought it because it has always been my dream to have space to play ‘Cowboys and Indians’ when I retire” (I would always correct him with “Just cowboys, Dad, just cowboys.”) . . . .

Sorry For Your Loss





Mbali Xabela


 
© Copyright 2024 by Mbali Xabela



Photo by David Goldsbury on Unsplash
Photo by David Goldsbury on Unsplash

Sorry for your loss.”

A hollow sentiment, one I used so cheaply without the knowledge of the profound, existential, and excruciating burden of a loss. Grief and death were such distant concepts to me, I lived so long without its withering touch upon my life. Yes, relatives and relatives of close friends passed away throughout the years, but no one was so close to my soul that they were a part of it. April 3rd 2023, will be a day that will forever cast a pall on all those that follow. It’s almost been a year since my world had been torn asunder and my soul split from its seams.

The day my grandfather died. . . .

More...





 Chung-il Chil-ban




Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.
.

Recently, while sorting through an old briefcase filled with papers that I carried around for many years before settling in this house, I came across some photos from the early years I spent in Korea as a teacher in a boys middle school in the small city of Chunchŏn in Kangwŏn Province, and in one of these pictures I am standing in a group portrait of one particular class.  I had not looked at this picture in twenty years but as soon as I saw it I instantly remembered the day and the occasion and I said to myself, “Chung-il Chil-ban.”. . .

Story of Life







Paris Gardner


 
© Copyright 2024 by Paris Gardner

 

Photo by Allan Vega on Unsplash
Photo by Allan Vega on Unsplash

 Having nowhere to go can be a scary experience. One of the hardest things I ever had to learn was getting back on my feet. I have always been afraid of being homeless, but I decided it’s time to start working hard to get out this situation. I also thought it would be a great way to help my mother find her way because she also been going through a lot due to her having 3 kids. What I didn’t realize was being an adult is harder than our parents make it look. . . .

Kaya Mijikenda







Ibrahim Said Mwafrika




 
© Copyright 2024 by Ibrahim Said Mwafrika

 

Photo courtesy of Pixabay.
Image by Jim Cramer from Pixabay

Based on a true culture, way of life in the year 1500 AD. The Kaya Mijikenda Community of the Bantu Origin namely Kambe, Ribe, Jibana, Kauma, Rabai, Chonyi, Giriama, Duruma and Digo, lived a life worth remembering. Here is their story. . . .

Gillette Days



Roger Funston





 
© Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston



Photo by Erik den Yngre at Wikimedia Commons.
Photo by Erik den Yngre at Wikimedia Commons.

In 1980, I joined Arco Coal in the Denver Corpirate office, where I spend a good deal of time providing permit assistance for the BlackThunder Mine, a large open pit coal mine located near Gillette, Wyoming. . . .

More...






 Winter 1971

pastedGraphic.png



Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan


Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
North Korean Prisoners 1951,
photo by Larry Gahn, US State Department, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

The winter of 1971 in Chunchŏn was brutally – unforgettably – cold with a heartless grey sky, a frigid wind blowing from Siberia and iron-hard ground underfoot, but now – years later – my most vivid memory of that winter was an evening spent in the company of a friend who practiced his English with an eye-witness story of war crimes. . . .

No Ordinary Bird



Loukia Janavaras


 
© Copyright 2024 by Loukia Janavaras



Grovis, the turkey, (c) 2024 by Amelia Tyson, Minneapolis, MN
Grovis, the turkey, (c) 2024 by Amelia Tyson, Minneapolis, MN

Nearly every time I would drive from our home in southwest Minneapolis to visit my 92-year-old father, I would encounter a lone, wild, male turkey at the only four-way stop on a main road. He would usually be on one side of the street or the other. I often found myself at the stop sign waiting for him to cross, feeling impatient and irritable since I was usually in a rush and that’s usually about the time he would start crossing the street and stop right in front of my vehicle. But that was his home, so what else to do except simply exercise patience in the midst of frustration. It amazed me that he was bright enough to cross where he knew cars would be stopping. . . .

My Octopus Teamster



Emilie K. Adin


 
© Copyright 2024 by Emilie K. Adin



Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash
 Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash

In the waning months of the last millennium, I met a doe-eyed octopus who turned out to be more of a buck. It changed me. Coming face to eyeball with this creature is a moment wrapped tightly around my temporal lobe. Octavia—as I like to remember her—reminds me of the charismatic octopus “teacher” of documentary fame; with more braun. So began my love of cephalopods. . . .

In Those Eyes



Stephanie A. Chiedo


 
© Copyright 2024 by Stephanie A. Chiedo




Image by Danielle Shaw from Pixabay
Image by Danielle Shaw from Pixabay

It was December, the trees came alive. It sang and danced to the tune of the wind. It was in that dry harmattan season that I took notice of a laughing dove perched on our tree while I was in the garden writing a poem. . . .

A Honeybee Swarm



Ruth Pearson
(as told by Charles Keener)


 
© Copyright 2024 by Ruth Pearson



Image by xiSerge from Pixabay
Image by xiSerge from Pixabay

. . . .Charles’ dad was a beekeeper. The first question I asked Charles that afternoon was his earliest memory of being the son of a beekeeper. Charles’ face lit up as he spoke of sitting by the side of the road on Saturday mornings as car after car swarmed by him. Dust swirled in the air as his shirt stuck to his skin. With feet dangling from his chair, he looked at his reflection in rows of honey neatly stacked in jars on the brown folding table set up in front of him. Charles’ sister sat by his side playing with her hair, as their dad intermittently waved a sign at oncoming traffic. “Local Honey for Sale,” screamed the uneven letters. . . .

Since When Did You Become My Roomie?



Kenneth Minishi


 
© Copyright 2024 by Kenneth Minishi



Image by GeorgiaLens from Pixabay
Image by GeorgiaLens from Pixabay

. . . .I wish this gentle beast of burden wouldn’t burden me with his impromptu visits. And why does he have to be so sneaky about it? Why doesn’t he make himself at home during my wistful episodes when I peer through the window pensively? That way I would see him coming. Maybe he has his own version of a ‘tingle’ so he sidles in when my focus is diverted elsewhere. . . .

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My Encounter With The Wild Animal



Rohini Ragavan


 
© Copyright 2024 by Rohini Ragavan




Image by Ralph/Altrip/Germany from Pixabay
Image by Ralph/Altrip/Germany from Pixabay

I was a school girl, when I had my first wild animal encounter. My school was located amidst a dense jungle, that was a habitat to many flora and fauna. Summers wafted with mango fruit smell, as I often spotted squirrels frolicking. Winters, though not bone-chilling, brought the peacock sounds, in a vibrating resonance. It was a lush vegetation-abound place, with a huge, ancient baobab tree at the centre. A brook passed by the side, that supplied water source to the nearby fields. . . .

Losing My Cares In The Jungle



Lucy Weston


 
© Copyright 2024 by Lucy Weston



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

. . . .We think life is short, but living without a light for our soul makes it long and hard. When I finally took the step that seemed impossible, into a life I never believed could be mine; when I finally decided to stop being so scared of my dreams, to start trusting my gut and listen to the screaming voice inside of me that was dying to live life to its fullest potential; when I finally booked a ticket from my home in New Zealand and stepped off the plane into the rainforest of Borneo; I celebrated and grieved at the same time, because in the end, choosing myself had been so easy, and it felt like coming home. . . .

The Little Bird



Sahana Nagandla


 
© Copyright 2024 by Sahana Nagandla



Photo by David Ruh: https://www.pexels.com/photo/bearded-vulture-perching-on-a-rocks-17734708/
Photo by David Ruh courtesy of Pexels.

Hiking through one of the biggest mountains in the world is of course an experience to treasure for a lifetime, but for me, a meeting with a furry creature made this memory even more precious. . . .

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It's Not A Raven



Dana S. Ellingwood


 
© Copyright 2024 by Dana S. Ellingwood



Image by rfotostock from Pixabay
Image by rfotostock from Pixabay

Death was imminent as sadly I bent to comfort my beloved orange tabby of seventeen years; named Marvin. He’d spent all of his nine lives barely escaping the grim reaper.

Imagine my horror as I rose and looking out our large sliding glass doors to the patio, saw perched on one of the lawn chairs the largest bird I’d ever seen staring at us. . . .

Nine Lives Of Love



Albert W. Caron, Jr.



 
© Copyright 2024 by Albert W. Caron, Jr.



Photo by Cong H on Unsplash
Photo by Cong H on Unsplash

. . . .After a long day teaching school, I sat at the kitchen table reading the mail. The garage door motor grinded to life signifying that my wife Eileen and our youngest daughter Andrea were home. As the back door opened, I heard a distinctive meow. Looking over I saw the tiny creature clutched in my seven-year-old’s small arms.

Another cat?” I muttered. “Just what this home needs.” . . .

Wild Australia



Roger Funston



 
© Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston



Photo of sharp-tailed sandpipers by Steve Wilson courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo of sharp-tailed sandpipers by Steve Wilson courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Today, I walk a 10 mile transect over coastal dunes and along brackish lagoons. We are keeping a list of the migratory birds we see, eastern curlew and bar-tailed godwit, critically endangered, red-necked stilt, vulnerable. These birds fly 8,000 miles from China and Siberia to winter in Coorong National Park. It is April 1984, autumn in Australia. Soon these birds will migrate to the Northern Hemisphere to summer. . . .

Mantisia



James Flanigan


 
© Copyright 2024 by James Flanigan



Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay
Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

It wasn’t quite fall yet according to the calendar, but I knew it was coming. Although the days were still warm, I could feel a chill in the air when I left work in the early evening. My business was small — a modest warehouse and tiny office shared with my one full-time employee. We both parked right outside the door in a parking lot that came alive with helpless life in early summer. . . .


Our Bestial Neighbors With Sombreros



Melodie Langevin


 
© Copyright 2024 by Melodie Langevin



Photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash
Photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash

It was on a warm, sunny afternoon when I was out shopping that I saw him for the first time: Mister The President. From the top of his low concrete wall, he looked at me coldly. I was in Mexico, face to face with a medium-sized iguana, enthroned on the grayish concrete wall surrounding my neighbor's house across the street. Originally from Quebec, Canada, and accustomed to North American wildlife, I discovered a new animal horizon while living in Mexico for just over a year. . . .

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Shared Sanctuary



Debra Reeves


 
© Copyright 2024 by Debra Reeves




Photo by Rhododendrites at Wikimedia Commons.
Photo by Rhododendrites at Wikimedia Commons.

We purchased the large tract of land to be an informal sanctuary for ourselves and for the wild creatures that we thought would wish to harbour there. Over the course of our lives, we had endured some painful losses from which we were still attempting to recover. Years before, my husband had lost a first wife and a child, but those events are not easily overcome. When we purchased the acreage, I was still recovering from the effects of a coma that left me with some disabilities. We both loved to garden so our dream was to build a safe and welcoming place of beauty. . . .

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 Autumn 1971

pastedGraphic.png This Chinese character, (commonly used in written Korean), means Autumn.*





Giles Ryan
 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan


Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.


Kangwŏn Province begins in the central mountains east of Seoul, extends out to the Sea of Japan, and stretches down one third of the peninsula, its northern limit being the DMZ separating South Korea from North Korea. Many people in the province were from the North, found themselves in the South when the fighting ended with the armistice in 1953 and stayed in the province near the new border with the idea that this division was surely temporary, couldn’t last much longer, and if they just waited until the war really ended, they could rejoin their relatives in Pyŏngyang or Kaesŏng or any of a thousand villages called home. In 1971 they were still waiting. . . .

Wholesome



Sally Bonn-Ohiaeriaku



 
© Copyright 2024 by Sally Bonn-Ohiaeriaku



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

I ran into her at the hospital and I could see the loss of her husband affected her greatly. Grief was so unkind to her that a month after his funeral, she became a patient at the University of Nigeria Teaching Hospital (UNTH) in Enugu state. Her children were abroad and she needed a caregiver. She was my best friend so I chose to do it. I moved into her home and we found solace in ourselves. . . .

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No Name



Deborah Krulwich


 
© Copyright 2024 by Deborah Krulwich



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

"That's my guy!" I say, pointing to the brown and white wild rabbit that romps with his colony just beneath the grassy knoll near my apartment building. . . .

Rubber Worms



Susan M. Smith


 
© Copyright 2024 by Susan M. Smith



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

Walking out the door of my house in Garoua Boulai, Cameroon, I basked in the morning sun. Not yet too hot. Not too much dust in the air since it had rained the night before. The air smelled fresh and clean. To the right of my door grew a huge mango tree with fruit beginning to ripen. On the packed dirt in front of me, I saw a long, black thing about two feet long. . . .

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Elephants Never Forget




Annabelle Huff


 
© Copyright 2024 by



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

....Being a former missionary kid meant that I had to make sure I knew what I was talking about. And two, uncaged wild animals being normal to you probably means you either own a circus or have lived somewhere other than America. I was barely double digits, and I was dumb. 
 
     I’m older now, but memories don’t change like house addresses do. I haven’t been back to Africa in eight years, but I can still remember the way it felt to breathe the same uncaged air as they did. . . .

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The Struggles of Everyday Existence






Kelly Maida



 
© Copyright 2023 by Kelly Maida


Photo by Elisa Ventur on Unsplash
Photo by Elisa Ventur on Unsplash

I am trying to find my voice but it is plagued in a sea of responsibilities, that is drawing in doubt. I am trying to listen to myself, but I can’t hear. Because somehow, I just feel fear. And all of a sudden I feel so disconnected from myself and my surroundings. It is as if your heart stopped and you can’t feel your pulse. You are just existing and it feels like at any time you could just stop or collapse. Why does society push us so hard? . . .

 Summer 1970

gilespicsummersymbolThis Chinese character, (commonly used in written Korean), means Summer.



Giles Ryan
 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan


Photo by Lucia Barreiros  Silva: https://www.pexels.com/photo/hands-holding-mediterranean-moray-13399738/
Photo by Lucia Barreiros Silva at Pexels.

The high summer days in Korea were a test. The weather was hot and humid, almost tropical, worse than the midsummer days of my childhood in Virginia. All through July and August everyone talked of the heat and how to mitigate the misery. 

Some of these notions were in the realm of folk remedies. The very kind gentleman who taught me Chinese calligraphy, (his encouragement far exceeded my meager skill), assured me of the efficacy of the ancient adage “I-yŏl Chi-yŏl” which taught that one should counter one kind of heat with another, and so one should take hot liquids to cool off. . . .

 Spring 1970

pastedGraphic.png This Chinese character, (commonly used in written Korean), means springtime.



Giles Ryan
 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan




Photo by Setayesh Yousefnia on Unsplash
Photo by Setayesh Yousefnia on Unsplash

In the spring of 1970 when I had not been long in Korea, I had a sudden and unexpected reminder of America, and in the process saw a startling kind of strength and endurance.

In those years I was a teacher at a middle school in Chunchŏn, in Kangwŏn Province, northeast of Seoul. It was a mountainous area with rivers and lakes created by the dam projects built after the war. The war was, of course, a recent memory and the scars of the conflict were still in evidence. . . .

Batty For Russell



Judy Quan


 
© Copyright 2024 by Judy Quan



Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Like most people I meet, I was initially afraid of bats, erroneously believing them to be scary, aggressive creatures of dark fiction. I am an avid animal lover, and at one time, after viewing an educational piece about Bat World Sanctuary in west Texas, I wished I lived closer to the sanctuary so I could volunteer there. . . .


The Chunchŏn Road





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan




Image by Pexels from Pixabay
Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Most of us remember the first time we saw a place where we spent a significant period of our lives — a new neighborhood, or a college campus seen for the first time — but I have an even more vivid memory of the journey that first took me to such a place, Chunchŏn, the town where I was a school teacher for two years, and I still have the clearest recollection of the bus ride that took me there. . . .

Taxi Dancer






Melissa L. White




 

© Copyright 2023 by Melissa L. White

Photo by mp Mediaphotos
"Photo by mp Mediaphotos"


A warm Santa Ana breeze blew in the half open bedroom window, stirring the curtains and tinkling the wind chime which hung outside on the patio. Amanda sat on her bed painting her toenails fire engine red while listening to the Lakers game on the radio. When the phone rang, she turned down the volume on the radio and answered the phone on the second ring. . . .

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Preserverance In The Green Idyll



Ron Halvorson




 
© Copyright 2024 by Ron Halvorson



Image by Veronica Bosley from Pixabay
Image by Veronica Bosley from Pixabay

   This job didn't take talent, or brains.  Hell, a monkey could be trained to water plants.  What it did take was the will to persevere against never ending adversity.  Simple folks working in a simple economy: seeds, shovels, dirt, sun, water. . . .

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The Woman


Steven Douglas Elwood

 

© Copyright 2024 by Steven Douglas Elwood 

Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

This is the memory of my Mother.

Her graying thick dark brown hair was always unruly. Her emerald eyes were always gleaming. Her face, though weathered and aged, was still beautiful. She had a quiet strength about her.  . . .

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dentity





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan




Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

At the start of life, our identity is defined with a few plain facts — place, date, parents’ names and the family name they bestow — but at the other end of life, we are someone entirely different, with another identity created by our own acts and the paths we choose. The earliest facts of our lives tell us very little and even this little may be misleading. For example, I hold in my hand a birth certificate and a baptism certificate which state facts about how I started my life, and yet the former did not truly state the case, and the latter defined me as something I never fully accepted. . . .

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The Dog's Story





Karen Radford Treanor 

 

© Copyright 2023  by Karen Radford Treanor



Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

I bought a small picture frame at a charity shop some time ago.. It came with a photo of somebody's dog sitting in the back seat of a rather posh car.. I do not know this dog, nor that car, nor the person who took the photo and later abandoned it--but I am having difficulty throwing away the photo now that I have cleaned up the frame for another picture. Somebody loved this dog enough to let it ride in the car, and took a photograph to mark the occasion. Why did the owner later discard the picture? . . .

Ocelots



Roger Funston



 
© Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston



Image by Ronald Plett from Pixabay
Image by Ronald Plett from Pixabay

We walk a six mile transect through dry tropical rainforest, over hills, valleys, steep canyons, setting and baiting live traps in late afternoon, January 2001. It is the dry season and the vegetation has a droughty look that doesn’t look at all tropical. In the morning, we will check the traps, trying to solve the puzzle of where ocelots prefer to prowl. . . .

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A Cat Nap Miracle



Rainbow Medicine-Walker



 
© Copyright 2024 by Rainbow Medicine-Walker



Image by 12019 from Pixabay
Image by 12019 from Pixabay

We had an early spring that year which did not stick. The nesting songbirds were back but dawn came in frosty and gray that day. I bundled up in my red and orange woolen poncho to hike the mountain for sunrise ceremony. I prefer to blend with the environment, but bright colors were required so I would stand out, in case any of the locals who liked to randomly shoot about in the woods was feeling frisky. The climb was steep and I was tired, so when I reached the viewpoint I did what I often do, lie down in a relatively flat spot to take a brief rest. . . .

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The Crocodile Trap



Ahmed Aliyu


 
© Copyright 2024 by Ahmed Aliyu



Photo by Michelle van der Hoek on Unsplash
Photo by Michelle van der Hoek on Unsplash

I was not a good swimmer, to be candid; I was never a swimmer at all. I was not scared of water, rather I was scared of the deep of moving or stagnant water. All my experience of swimming   had always been close to the edge of every river, stream or swimming pool I found myself in. I had never been foolish to dare into the deep of any river I followed my friends to during my years as a kid. . . .

The Swallow and the Parakeet




Stephanie Amanda N. Sabban

 
© Copyright 2024 by
Stephanie Amanda N. Sabban

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

Down a slope of a hill,

Quietly pecking amongst the soot,

Looking for your next meal.

Maya, that's your name. . . .

The Red Devil



Thomas Turman


 
© Copyright 2023 by Thomas Turman




Image by Dariusz Sankowski from Pixabay
Image by Dariusz Sankowski from Pixabay

When I was 10, I traveled with my father selling automotive equipment through eastern Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska and finally Wyoming to finish our circle, back to Denver where we lived. I loved traveling with him because we could talk and play license-plate poker on the long stretches between small towns. That’s when we worked out a money-making trick for me. . . .

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The Successful Writer





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan




Photo by Unseen Studio on Unsplash
Photo by Unseen Studio on Unsplash

I don’t write for money, nor to please other people, and I’ve done both successfully for many years.

To be sure, I usually write with other people in mind, and usually my sons and grandsons are the audience I hope for, but I don’t write for them, and I don’t write to please them, and they’ll be the first to confirm this. I often send my sons new things I’ve written, and sometimes they express a liking for these scribbles, but at other times they’ll say they haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, and I try not to ask a second time. As for my grandsons, they’re still too young to ignore someone so much older, but in time they’ll come to it. . . .

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A Moment On A Bus





Sarah Reid



 
© Copyright 2024 by Sarah Reid



Photo by Ina Carolino on Unsplash
Photo by Ina Carolino on Unsplash

Sarah shivered like butterfly as she waited for the bus to arrive to go ice skating with her friends.

A queue of people waiting for the bus in the rain as it pounded on top of the bus shelter like thunder in a storm. It made Sarah jump like a jack in the box just like 3 out of the 4 people in the queue too. Sarah didn't understand why the man in the queue didn't jump, but suddenly the bus skidded to a halt at last and they quickly filed on to the bus paying their fare, the man at the end of the line quietly mouthed to the driver "Sorry, im Deaf, need ticket ". It was hard to understand what he was saying. Rudely the driver ushered him away. . . .

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Thanks To Charlie





Sarah Reid


 
© Copyright 2024 by Sarah Reid





Photo by Jon Cartagena on Unsplash
Photo by Jon Cartagena on Unsplash

It had been such a difficult week with multiple seizures getting me down, my husband had to go to work after he helped me take the children to school and nursery.

Mum and dad were looking after me for several hours whilst he worked. . . .

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Temptation



Etsegenet Reta Woldemichael



 
© Copyright 2024 by Etsegenet Reta Woldemichael




Photo courtesy of the author.
Photo courtesy of the author.

I was born and raised in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia. Though, I was rural at heart. By the way I dressed and talked people finds it hard to believe, one of the unfailing reasons is my fluoride teeth.

I was a ‘Home Girl’ and I believed other places are unkind. Though getting job at the city was hard. So, I secured a position as Wash engineer in Aletawondow town. I rented a whole room by myself and got keys. . . .


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The Neighborhood Celebrity



Abbie Creed


 
Revision © Copyright 2024 by Abbie Creed



Photo by Jacques Le Henaff on Unsplash.
Photo by Jacques Le Henaff on Unsplash.

The Neighborhood Celebrity” is a heart-warming story with a happy ending, and is quite suitable for children of any age. It depicts how a child, a teenager and an adult showing empathy, Compassion, patience and caring, met under extraordinary circumstances, and worked together to save a life. I wrote this story for all the children in my life. . . .

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My Father Was Born When JFK Was Elected President



Devin Meireles





© Copyright 2024 by Devin Meireles


Photo by Christian Bowen on Unsplash
Photo by Christian Bowen on Unsplash

After hauling a grocery load back to the house, the group gathered for well-deserved rest and recuperation, satisfied to be in each other’s company. The ambiance was conducive to great memories. Each of them tended to some form of leisurely activity while the radio played in the background. It was an uncomplicated serenity that was not taken for granted. Those simple pleasures were some of their biggest victories since emigrating. . . .


Wormed My Wretched Way







Linda Valenzuela Guzmàn



 
© Copyright 2024 by Linda Valenzuela Guzmàn


 

Photo by Ivan Ivanovič on Unsplash
Photo by Ivan Ivanovič on Unsplash

Humans, poor creatures, Poor Creatures in need of a savior. Like, this man for instance: he should have listened to his nagging wife about stopping those gluttonous and rather gross eating habits of his, for because of it, he’s become gravely ill. But, fortunately for him, I’m more than happy to help my new host, as any tapeworm would. . . .


Benny and Miriam

    

 

Valerie Byron    

© Copyright 2023 by Valerie Byron  

  

Photo property of the author.
Photo property of the author.


In June 1959 I was not quite seventeen years old. Mum had made the decision for us to return to England, in order to nurse her ailing lover. I was to leave Beverly Hills High School in my sophomore year, and it was planned that I would attend secretarial college in Manchester the coming September. . . .


Old Friends Old Letters





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2023 by Giles Ryan




Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/margarita_kochneva-11806996/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=4095909">Margarita Kochneva</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=4095909">Pixabay</a>
Image by Margarita Kochneva from Pixabay


I write emails every day but I didn’t grow up with them, and I can’t say that I like this form of expression. True, email has the advantage of convenience and immediacy, which comes from the fact that the message goes across instantly, and may be read as soon as it is sent, perhaps within the moment. And a reply may come back just as quickly. But is all this too quick? Do convenience and immediacy preclude more important qualities? . . .

When I Was Jerry






Carl Winderl

 
© Copyright 2024 by Carl Winderl




Photo (c) by AmoMedia courtesy of the author.
Photo (c) by AmoMedia courtesy of the author.
 
When I was Jerry, in Jerry’s Game, a film role in a short-short for AmoMedia, I was offered the most challenging and yet most rewarding character I’d ever played.

Oh, I’d acted in numerous short independent and student films over the years, but while living in Kyiv, Ukraine, I acted in several or so short English language films for AmoMedia and her sister production company DramatizeMe. . . .

The Long Arm of the Law







Ben Pollard



 
© Copyright 2024 by Ben Pollard

 

Image by Sergei Tokmakov, Esq. https://Terms.Law from Pixabay
Image by Sergei Tokmakov, Esq. https://Terms.Law from Pixabay.

I'd been in Alaska since March and was past due for a trip "Outside." Early December, darkest days of the year was the ideal time for getting away. I would fly to San Francisco to visit my sister, then to Scottsbluff Nebraska to see my brother, Tom, and finally on to Boston for Christmas with my parents. I made it as far as Scottsbluff before the long arm of the law caught up with me. . . .

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Nochonggak  





Giles Ryan

 
© Copyright 2023 by Giles Ryan




Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.


In Korea, anyone who does not fall into a set category or fails to do the expected will certainly attract attention, and not necessarily in a good way. This includes by definition an “old bachelor” — a nochonggak.

In the winter of 1970, I first arrived in Chunchŏn as a young bachelor in my very early twenties, and there was nothing remarkable about my single state; indeed, it was entirely normal. The same could not be said of an unmarried man ten years older, and this pressure to marry grew stronger each day a man stayed single past his early thirties. . . .

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The Model T, the Boy, and the Big Deal




Karen Radford Treanor 

 

© Copyright 2023  by Karen Radford Treanor

Don O'Brien from Piketon, Ohio, United States.
Photo by Don O'Brien from Piketon, Ohio, at Wikimedia Commons.

Long ago, my husband and I used to visit his parents every Sunday. Sometimes after imbibing his post-prandial highball, my father-in-law would reminisce about his youth.

There were 11 Treanor brothers and no sisters.  Gene senior was half a set of twins. His sibling died in infancy.  Another brother died at age 3, and another one died of lung disease caused by mustard gas in WWI.  That still left a big cohort of men in the family who got up to all sorts of things. The brothers were born between 1889 and 1907, which meant the older ones were more like uncles to the later born like my father-in-law. They were looked up to and deferred to and they sometimes led the youngsters into slightly grey areas.

My husband recently reminded me of the story about his father and uncles and the Model T Ford. . . .


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On Holy Ground





Mitchell Kowitz




 
© Copyright 2024 by Mitchell Kowitz



Photo by Narciso Arellano on Unsplash
Photo by Narciso Arellano on Unsplash

A woman with a collectibles shop finds that her house and property are on sacred burial grounds with mysterious powers.

The Minnesota Art Fair is the place to be in the summertime and this year was no exception. It was raining on the opening day of the Art Fair. I fancy myself as an amateur collector of art and was excited to see what treasures I may come across at this year’s art fair. I look forward to this event every year and it has now become an annual tradition for me…a little rain certainly wasn’t going to dampen my spirits and keep me away. . . .

Friday the 13th - A Blessing



Abbie Creed



 
© Copyright 2023 by Abbie Creed
 
Photo of the author.
Photo of the author.


Friday the 13th of March,2020 was like a week packed into one day. Realizing I was out of postage stamps and needing to mail a birthday card to my granddaughter, prompted an early morning visit to the Post Office and since I was running low on hearing aid batteries, I decided to make a stop at the nearby drug store where they were on sale 2 for 1 that week. I never like to miss a sale! A trip to the fresh food market to pick up my fresh vegetables for the week was next on the agenda before heading to the Super Market to complete my weekly shopping for staples. . . .

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Possessed by Possessions?





Karen Radford Treanor 

 

© Copyright 2023  by Karen Radford Treanor

Photo by Isaac Martin on Unsplash
Photo by Isaac Martin on Unsplash

Last January I walked out of a big store, leaving my potential purchases behind. I just couldn’t face standing behind 75 other people in order to buy two pairs of undies and a DVD of “Arsenic and Old Lace”. I decided to wait until the post-Christmas feeding frenzy ceased and stores returned to normal. The Customer Service counter was besieged by dozens of folks wishing to return or swap gifts, and the regular checkout lanes were packed with bargain hunters laden with electrical gadgets, clothes, household goods and toys. The tailback reached all the way through “Soft furnishings” and almost to “Home Storage Options.”

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Buried Alive





Sara Etgen-Baker



 
© Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker

Photo of Sara.
Photo of Sara.

You do the honors,” Bill said laying the shiny new key in the palm of my hand, metal and skin together. On that summer’s day there was a warmth to it, and the light played gently over the curves. I let my fingers curl around the key, feeling a spark of joy as I pushed it into the doorknob’s keyhole making a 90° counterclockwise twist. I knew it was just the pins turning the cylinder and not magic opening the door, but at that moment I felt like a magician unlocking our dreams and opening the door to our future. . . .

Angel On The Highway





Sara Etgen-Baker



 
© Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash
Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

I’m a native Texan and as such am not experienced in or comfortable with driving in snowy, icy road conditions. So I was reluctant, even afraid, that snowy February morning to embark on my 25-mile commute. I dressed for work anyway, listening to weather reports and watching the radar, hoping to receive a text message from my school district telling me that schools would be closed for the day due to inclement weather and deteriorating road conditions. But the text message never came. Being a dutiful teacher, I warmed up my car melting the fresh layer of ice on the windshield then left for campus slowly inching my car along city streets keeping my eyes peeled for patches of black ice. . . .

Ticket To Ride





Sara Etgen-Baker



 
© Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker

Photo by the author.
 Photo property of  the author.

"Ticket to Ride" is a memoir and a true biographical account of a magical summer I spent with my Aunt Betty. . . .

A Reflection of Dad
A man puts his father’s ashes in the lake and then begins to see a reflection of his father in the water.




Mitchell Kowitz


 
© Copyright 2024 by Mitchell Kowitz



Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@fabulu75?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Fabrice Villard</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/two-beige-boat-on-water-nig-NqGjAAE?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Unsplash</a>
Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash

My father and I were close for many years. When he got sick, he and I had a big fight that resulted in me storming out of his house. Three days later, he passed away from colon cancer. After his passing, I became wracked with guilt. I thought about the argument that we had. I thought about the fishing trip on Lake Walnut that we used to go on every year. Now, grief and guilt consumed me. . . .

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The Mission


Fredrick Hudgin




 
© Copyright 2023 by Fredrick Hudgin



Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@robsarm?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Rob Sarmiento</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/touring-motorcycle-covered-with-snow-QCwid3quvJc?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Unsplash</a>
Photo by Rob Sarmiento on Unsplash

It’s snowing. Man, this is perfect. Well, I’m still going. After forty-three years of missing Daytona, hearing about how great it was, about all the pretty girls and great parties and dynamite bikes, I’m going. And I’m gonna ride my bike. She may not win any of the bike beauty contests while I’m down there, but she will get me there and get me back. And only break down a couple of times. . . .

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The Horrors of Boarding School

    

 

Valerie Byron    

© Copyright 2023 by Valerie Byron  

  

Image by Ekaterina from Pixabay

Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.


My mother and I lived in the cold North of England in an upscale neighborhood. We had a lovely home, but were the only family without a father in the picture. Having been abandoned by my father almost at birth, I had become very attached to my mother.  Due to her fragile and sensitive nature, she was ill-prepared to cater to the needs of my adolescent brother, and myself. Fortunately, her brothers assisted financially providing a live-in housekeeper to take care of our needs and paying for my brother to spend his formative years in boarding school. Meanwhile I clung to my mother, desperate for her love and attention. By the time I was six, the housekeeper had left, and my mother and I were on our own. . . .

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Saint Mama




James L. Cowles





  
© Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles


 
Image by Victoria from Pixabay
                        Mama circi 1925

Just about everyone pictures their mother as a Saint, someone who deserves to be placed on a pedestal. When we think of the perfection of motherhood, we of course think of Jesus' mother, Mary, a virgin who gave birth to the son of God. How could any mother reach such perfection, yet we tend to place our mother on such a Holy pedestal, right alongside the mother of Jesus. . . .

No Meddling





Paula Grieve


 
© Copyright 2023 by Paula Grieve



Photo by Romina Farías on Unsplash
Photo by Romina Farías on Unsplash

Going to Grandma's house meant a trip to a special place, a veritable treasure trove filled with things irresistible to the curious nature of a child. Pulling into the gravel driveway, the first thing to be seen in summer was the manicured lawn stretching over a hundred yards, to a thick copse of trees. From the multiple bird feeders in the front yard, positioned above a family of three plastic deer, (in winter, snow drifted to cover the points of the buck's antlers), to the weeping willow overlooking a small combination flower and vegetable garden out back, Grandma's yard was full of opportunities for exploration. . . .

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Farewell



Mary Cornelia Brown Murphy


 
© Copyright 2024 by Mary Cornelia Brown Murphy



Photo by Lance Reis on Unsplash
Photo by Lance Reis on Unsplash

Our home near Nashville was a haven for birds. On a bend in the Cumberland River, it sat across the road from acres of fields and pastures that grew corn and grass for a large herd of black and white milk cows. Trees lined the river bank and all along the road there were shrubs,weeds and wild flowers. . . .

When Grandpa Returned from the Dead





Lahsen Benaziza


 
© Copyright 2023 by Lahsen Benaziza




Photo by Reiner Knudsen on Unsplash
Photo by Reiner Knudsen on Unsplash
When Moussa was getting married to a nice looking girl from a neighboring tribe that his mother had spotted in some inter-tribal ceremony, his brother Bouazzaoui, a Fqih* with some standing in the family, decided that his brother’s wedding was going to be celebrated with Abidat R’mah*, unlike other weddings in the family in which strict recitation of the Qurʾān was imposed by their father, a warrior in youth turned devout Sufi in old age. . . .

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The First Virtue









Ezra Azra

.


 
© Copyright 2024 by Ezra Azra
Artwork by Thomas Nordwest at Wikimedia Commons.
Artwork by Thomas Nordwest at Wikimedia Commons.

From the beginning, Communities of people everywhere throughout history, independently of one another, have formulated virtues by which everyone in that Community is required to live.

Nobody has attempted to make a list of all the virtues defined by all Communities. Probably, such a list would be endless, even without duplicated virtues. . . .

The Killing of a Baby Girl







Yuan Changming



 
© Copyright 2023 by Yuan Changming

 

Photo by Minnie Zhou on Unsplash
Photo by Minnie Zhou on Unsplash

On a hot evening, the Wangs drowned their newborn daughter in a wooden basin, saying that they already had two sons to bring up. In the wee hours of the night before a mid-moon festival, the infant girl in the Song family was suffocated to death while sleeping with her grandparents. Afterwards, the old couple didn’t even bother to give a reason for this tragic accident. In Lotus Flower Village, such killing was something taken for granted since time immemorial, though it was not really the order of the day. . . .

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Illusion




Valerie Forde-Galvin




 
© Copyright 2024 by Valerie Forde-Galvin


Photo courtesy of the author..
Photo courtesy of the author.

Certain Eastern philosophies view this life on earth as illusion or “Maya.” I have no problem with that concept. In my eight decades, I've discovered that nothing is quite what it seems. Alright, so this doesn't necessarily put me in the Vedic camp, but let's just say I can relate. . . .

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Invasions of the Wrens 

 

Richard Loller
  

 

© Copyright 2024 by Richard Loller
 
 

 

Photo by Kevin Cress on Unsplash
Photo by Kevin Cress on Unsplash.

Richard here, reporting on a strange event. Yesterday was January 21, 2024, and temps had been in the single digits for several days.


Sherry went up to the attic to take some Christmas boxes and when she turned on the light she discovered a wren in that very cold and dark place. She said it looked weak and confused. . . .

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Eerie






James L. Cowles






  
© Copyright 2023 by James L. Cowles
 
Image by Victoria from Pixabay
Image by Victoria from Pixabay
It happened so unexpectedly, and it caused me to wonder how many others have had the same, or a similar kind of experience. In fact, it has happened to me on two different occasions, both occuring in the same room in my house. . . .

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Chauncey Street




Valerie Forde-Galvin




 
© Copyright 2023 by Valerie Forde-Galvin


Valerie and Uncle Nat.  Photo courtesy of the author..
Valerie and Uncle Nat.  Photo courtesy of the author.

In the nineteen-forties, Chauncey Street was a hotbed of activity. We were working class, one car families. Fathers went to work; mothers stayed home. Kids walked to the local elementary school and, after school, played outside until called in to supper. Everything happened in the neighborhood. Just on our own street there was as much drama as you'd find in any television series. I suppose you could think of Chauncey Street as the Downton Abbey of Dorchester. . . .

The Road North




I


Karen Petersen



 
© Copyright 2023 by Karen Petersen



Photo of a book cover.
Photo of a book cover

 The main road to Espanola–a town north of glamorous Santa Fe, New Mexico--held a sense of promise that was consistently affirmed by the splendid landscape as Janet drove along. 

Unfortunately, it was not fulfilled by the destination. The town itself was a shell of a town, filled with fast food joints, rundown buildings and an air of hovering decrepitude which was like a bad stench that never quite went away. . . .

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Hierachy of Priorities







Karen Petersen


 
© Copyright 2023 by Karen Petersen



Image by Ulrike Mai from Pixabay
Image by Ulrike Mai from Pixabay

It was one of those swanky New York society weddings, with the reception held at Tavern on the Green. The Times had announced the engagement, and the wedding was going to be written up the next day in the society pages.

Laurie had been friends with Jonathan, the groom, for years, and when he met Sally, his wife to be, he made sure she and Laurie became friends too. He was from a wealthy family and had gone to Yale. Sally had gone to Smith, and they’d met at an all-Ivy mixer. Enough said. . . .

Henry Kissinger
US Statesman Against Third World Aspirations and Independence



Winston Donald

   
© Copyright 2023 by Winston Donald



Photo courrtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Photo courrtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

American Jew and former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger died on November 29, 2023 coming on the heels of the death of Roslyn Carter an Internationalist opposite in passion and life. Kissinger was truly devoted to America and to USA political and economic ideals, yet he was equally antithesis and resistant to everything called freedom for Third World Countries especially, Africa and Latin America. . . .

A Primer for Atheists at Christmas






Carl Winderl

 
© Copyright 2022 by Carl Winderl




Image by Mike Singleton from Pixabay
Image by Mike Singleton from Pixabay

As yet another Christmas season advents, I am reminded of my annual embarrassment and guilt for atheists and their attempts to remove vestiges of Christ from Christmas. Surely, someone must help them, and since no one else has yet stepped forward, I modestly propose myself for this long overdue task. . . .

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She Was More Than Glam and Glitz





Sara Etgen-Baker



 
© Copyright 2023 by Sara Etgen-Baker

Photo by the author.
Photo by the author.

. . . .As a young girl growing up in the 50s, Hollywood’s glamorous and glitzy lifestyle fascinated me. And popular actresses such as Jane Russell, Ava Gardner, and Rita Hayworth captivated me with their mink stoles, high-heeled shoes, Dior gowns, and overstated jewelry. But of all the women I saw both on-screen and off, my Aunt Betty was the most glamorous, elegant woman I knew. . . .

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What Do I See?

In Fond Remembrance of Chandler Heights.



Sara Etgen-Baker



 
© Copyright 2023 by Sara Etgen-Baker

Neighborhood gal friends.  Photo from the author.
Neighborhood gal friends.  Photo from the author.

. . . .What do I see when I drive through my old neighborhood?

Not the familiar cookie cutter houses or the elementary school I attended with my friends. Instead…

I see my ten-year-old self clad in saddle oxford shoes running around, playing hide-and-go-seek with my brothers and friends. . . .

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