Reposting an old post in honor of Mother’s Day. Setting: The small drab auditorium of an old elementary school or church. Our hero stands at the podium addressing a sorry-looking bunch of mild-mannered men hunched over in their metal folding chairs. Our Hero: Hi, I’m a recovering animal. A chorus of grumbling Hello’s and Welcomes … Continue reading
This blog has been getting a little dusty, guess I should post something. What follows is an excerpt from an environmentally focused book I’ve been trying to write, as well as a couple of pictures I’ve taken. I was on an early morning flight to Cincinnati in a small propeller plane. It was a … Continue reading
(this is an old post I’m replaying, because I want to…) My spiritual advisor taught me how to communicate with trees, but I confronted her after my first attempt didn’t go over too well. That tree you sent me to told me to get lost. She gave me a look of disdain. What did you … Continue reading
Book Excerpt. In the darkness and drunkenness, the bodies mingling around me faded to faceless silhouettes, the haze of booze covering us in its intoxicated fog. Except for Fran. She reclined in her chair as the center of attention, letting her long slender legs dangle from her slinky black dress, offering them up as the night’s delicacy while playing … Continue reading
Story Excerpt “Let’s dance,” she said, and raised her hands into the air, gyrating against me. I kept asking myself why I didn’t just walk away. This wasn’t what I wanted. As long as the music played she continued to drink, and at one point forced me to dance. I wasn’t in the … Continue reading
She went on to tell me about a previous job and eventually I shared one of my own. I sipped on my beer and kept at it all night – a bottle to help me cope with my unbalanced life. I contributed little to the conversation and was relieved when our shuttle bus finally picked … Continue reading
I thought I was done writing about guns in any way but one made it into this story. Maybe this will be the last time and I’ll start writing about sunshine and puppies after this. “You shot at me?” He was asking, not knowing where it came from. “It wasn’t me,” I said. … Continue reading
