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Weekly Contest #161
I am lucky I have any friends.Well, a few anyway.I am lucky I have a lovely wife and great adult children. My role model as a child was a father who never said please, or thank you. Who would come home from work in a foul mood and think nothing of filling every room with bright, flashing caution lights: Do Not Touch. Do Not Say The Wrong Thing.Please let me be different, keep my dark moods to myself and not spread them like dust in the wind. How dare you believe you had the right to impose your fury on us.It was an...
Weekly Contest #156
Don’t you remember? I remember. I remember how four of us drove from Brussels to Pamplona. 7-7-7. July 7, 7:00 am. Running of the bulls. I had been reading Earnest Hemingway, caught up in the machismo and bravado. We had white shirts, red neckerchiefs, I think red berets. The Spanish men wore white pants and white shirts to complement their red neckerchiefs and berets. You couldn’t run, Valerie. Only men could demonstrate their idiocy on 7-7-7. You took black and white photographs. Your daughter brought them to me, after yo...
Weekly Contest #152
I met a miracle worker once. I hadn’t planned to. I don’t think she knew she was a miracle worker. She was humble, kind, smart, maybe in her late thirties. She had long dark hair; spoke English with a lovely Portuguese accent. More than likely it doesn’t occur to most miracle workers that their presence, their being, along with whatever skill set they should have, impacts others so profoundly.I had been having dinner with my family, a beautiful June evening, when the phone rang. There are many paths one may take in life. That phone call alte...
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