Tag: author

A True Run-in with Bonnie and Clyde

While in the midst of writing No Hill for a Stepper, my father recounted this event. Here is the excerpt: Delma and me come home from school and can’t find Mother anywhere. She’s always home when we come home from school, so we start… Continue Reading “A True Run-in with Bonnie and Clyde”

Fear of Change

Why, birds, must you be angry? your cawing, dawning, cries on forceful wings with hope of spring your ire, it mystifies Perhaps it is your season call a changing time, alerting so others heed your time of need through winter, disconcerting Lay still your… Continue Reading “Fear of Change”

Yes, You Can!

I received the printed children’s book I wrote from Mixbook and I’m so happy with it. Mixbook.com does a great job with the printing and they make it easy to create. And, I have a blast finding the art work. Best thing? My granddaughter loves it!… Continue Reading “Yes, You Can!”

A Poet’s Hands

Hands. Mine only hold this journal. Only the extremities of an invisible will turn the pages, a wind blowing each folio to the next, unaware of the marks of my pen. Knowing this, frees me.   The apparition will lurk in the abyss, or stand… Continue Reading “A Poet’s Hands”

Separate but (not treated) Equal

After Isaac puts the Pontiac in neutral and maneuvers it out on the driveway, he asks me to hand him a screwdriver. He tightens some do-ma-hickey then replaces the battery with the one he picked up at the local auto part’s store. “You sure… Continue Reading “Separate but (not treated) Equal”

A bullet past an ear

Further up on the right is another house. It looks kinda like an old Wayne Dennis house, falling down on one side. Car parts litter the front yard. “Who lives there?” I say. “Oh, some damn white man,” says Ike. “Still like that Cherokee… Continue Reading “A bullet past an ear”

Retaliation of the wrong kind?

Isaac grabs Olvie’s arm as she reaches the doorknob. “Olvie, don’t you do it. I don’t need protection just because a man’s called me names. I’m used to it. And you marching over there and giving him a tongue lashing will only make things… Continue Reading “Retaliation of the wrong kind?”

Pursing God

Moved to a room full of cots, women lay moaning, talking to themselves, soiling their sheets. Some chained to their beds, others forced into straight jackets before bedtime. Most stared up at the flaking, gray ceiling. Everything existed in a different time and place.… Continue Reading “Pursing God”

The guest of a Fruitcake

I had eaten my Swanson’s TV dinner on top of the TV tray and watched and listened to what I could on TV. Even Dr. Kildare, who usually makes me foolishly swoon, looked more like Barney Fife. I’m going bonkers. I know it. But… Continue Reading “The guest of a Fruitcake”

Inching toward the red doors

    With one glance at the oversized house, I knew it wasn’t the right address. I flashed him a cold smile. “That remains to be seen.” “Everybody knows it’s The Boarding House. Just what you asked for. Owner’s a nice lady, too.” He… Continue Reading “Inching toward the red doors”