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Weekly Contest #43
My Father did not usually cook, but if Mother had to work late, he would make his favorite dinner for the family-- bacon and eggs. I was skipping rope on the cracked sidewalk in front of the house and through the window I saw one, round, white ball up in the air, then another and then another. Were they balls or were they eggs? I flew into the house throwing my skipping rope down. There stood my Dad whistling and juggling three white eggs while the bacon grease snapped and crackled its sizzling cheer. It looked like a circus. My Dad’s burn...
Weekly Contest #41
The old man examined his withered hand as though he did not recognize it as his own. Twisting the worn, golden ring around his calloused knuckled finger, twigged a memory of a bright spring day when he married his young bride. Then his mind went further back to a farmhouse on a hill. The years of time lay heaped and jumbled in his mind like an overflowing box of toys. He dug further until, near the bottom of the box, he retrieved the memory of a Collie dog. The dog surfaced through his congested thoughts because it was such a common element...
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