The 12 DOVES of Christmas

I like dark chocolate and sometimes have a piece in the morning with my coffee. There’s a brand of individually wrapped pieces called Dove™ that includes brief thoughts and statements inside the wrapper. With our preparation for the holiday season each year, my wife buys bags of them and–one year–I thought to begin on December […]

‘The Song On The Wind’

Short - Holiday - Fiction

A moment in time as told by a grandmother to her granddaughter that highlights the heightened feelings of first love and her discovery of the true meaning of Christmas. Song on the Wind (a link to the story is also further below) was my 2016 Christmas story. On 12/8/2018 I’ll re-share my 2017 Christmas Story WHITE […]

‘Toward the Light…’

Head still down, she looked at the vines that started under the dead leaves lying before her. Following the green of their winding on the trees that lined the path brought her eyes up, climbing their height as the vines did. They were life; growing infinitesimally and breathing as she looked at them. And as her head lifted she saw in the distance an opening through the trees at the crest of the hill she’d labored to climb but was only halfway there.

Those Were the Days

A Vignette

As you get older, your experiences… the paths you’ve walked in life… all you know and have become (and what or who made you that way) rest in your memories. They sleep… but they’re there, yes they are and sometimes they’re lively and churn around. A sound, a smell, a picture; some little thing shakes […]

‘The Girl in the Ramones Shirt’

Just a little scene...

Nightfall brought a different wind, one stripped of the day’s heat, coming off the water beyond the sunbaked beach below. I breathed deep, drawing the freshness, its tang–that scent of where the ocean meets a foreign land–into my lungs. An exotic aroma that always teased the possibilities of evenings in a seaport… and that sometimes […]

‘The Wrong Man…’ Scene Excerpt [M]

Draft Scene for a Pulp Fiction Story in Development

I had seen her a few times. What she was doing in this hole wasn’t my business. But she didn’t fit in. Nice clothes; her face, an un-inked ivory oval framed by dark hair, caught the dim lights in the bar. Eye’s that if the light was better would have probably been a bright blue. And curves; the kind to make a train jump the tracks. Distracting, follow her every move just to see things shift under her clothes, kind of curves.

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Nonfiction Commentary Formed as Fiction

The man sat on the patio chair and watched Petunia play with her string of beads large and small. She’d grab them and run across the yard, look back at him to make sure he was watching, then take off again… a pale pink streak with them streaming behind her like an optimistic kite tail […]