One aspect I thought of was my self-diagnosis of having a hyperactive personality with a dose of attention deficit disorder. 🙂
“My nomadic travel origins,”
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Tag: Short story
“Fellow World Travelers.”
It is always great meeting fellow travelers who seek nomadic adventures as we are a unique tribe of people whose experiences of the open road brings joys to our hearts.
“Angry voice of gratitude.”
I will never forget the sunny Monday morning inside the coffee shop, knowing you had seen me dozens if not hundreds of times reading the
“Table talk.”
The town of Creighton New Hampshire was to celebrate the 1948 class reunion of the small towns only high school with 43 of the original 97
“Fathers Day.”
Today men all over America are celebrating Father’s Day spending time with their families, throwing a ball in the yard or enjoying a quiet day
“Juxtapose, the yearly ceremony.”
Again, as usual, I am seated watching the archaic traditions leaving no assumptions for what is to happen at this ceremony that has been held every
“Appreciating natural surroundings.”
Usually, on the weekends mostly during the morning hours, a hiking trail fills with groups of people flaunting their newly purchased hiking and backpacking gear.
“Vaguely bestowed history.”
Ms, Charlotte Wetzler, was seated on the main stage, looking out upon well over 500-hundred guests who are her former students and the recipients of
“Mallet.”
With each swing of the mallet, I pound the spike deeper into the ground. Anger, jealousy, envy, and hate fuels my swings but, I cannot
“Identical.”
Every day since forever, I have seen you, and we are identical twins. I look into your eyes, and I see the mirror image of
“Blushed.”
Casandra entered the room, and I could not make eye contact, She walks past my table, and I look down at my paper, I sensed
“The wisdom of patience.”
I can remember as far back as a kindergartener, hearing my mother, father, siblings, friends, and teachers, telling me, or writing in the margins of
“Time to return to the trails.”
As the days of March wind down and I continue editing, re-editing and repeating the process of my short stories. The recent cold weather in
“Suddenly there is no sound.”
Suddenly there is no sound of the trail, but I feel and hear my heart pounding after my climb to summit the small peak of
Astral Congregation
At the beach, or in the park, the morning blend of sites and sounds coupled with the warm sunrise temperatures to sooth the skin adds to the beauty
“Valentines Day of love”
Well, it has come around again the commercially celebrated Valentines Day of love. It is the erotic, exotic, enticing, inspirational day for the expression and
“Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #3” (Final)
The twins and Johnathan are in the rear seat of the car with their father at the wheel, as they travel along their driveway from
“Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #2”
At 4:45 pm, their father, Jefferson Wheeler, was a third-generation farmer, who stood six-foot, seven-inches tall, with muscular arms, and a matching barrel chest. He
“Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #1.”
It was 4:30 pm on a western Nebraska farm, in the summer of 1969 with the humid July winds blowing as usual while the Wheeler
“Inscrutable trill silhouetted in front of me.”
I was scared almost out of my seat when Sister Abigale screamed at the top of her lungs forcing all of the fifth-grade students to
“I’m candid, fairly agile living on island time.”
I was born and raised in the Adirondacks in Upstate New York, and the first time I saw photos of a beach, I dreamed of
“The next dominant generation.”
I am a part of what some people call the greatest generation. When I consider how my parents who lived with nothing close to the
“Loophole.”
For twenty years’ or more, the theater’s dancers have taken a ten-minute break every hour during any rehearsal no matter how long they rehearsed. Three
“Winsome Characters.”
When a child is born, they are an unwritten computer program learning from parents teachers and society.
M. J. Leake
“Viable at any age.”
Mel and Susan Hubbard a married couple were sitting on a park bench after walking three miles along the beach which they do every other
“Atmospheric; A Short story”
Three months ago Jill and I decided to take a break with a tropical island weekend getaway. On our last evening, I dressed adorned in
“Droolling mushroom hunters.”
Hiking in the great northwest of the US brings you into contact with many types of people. My first encounter with mushroom hunters began with
“Music’s dubious riffs.”
During our annual concert, my high school’s jazz ensemble was playing before a packhouse of parents, students political dignitaries. We played several pieces that excited
“Faintly simmering and being beckoned.”
I stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching my mother cooking and preparing the Thanksgiving dinner as I drooled with excitement wanting to sneak
“Identifying Trademarks.”
The identifying trademarks were visible when the border officer lifted the tarp to reveal the cylindrical barrel. This story began after my best friend Charles
