Have Words Will Write
As I stare out the window of my second-floor office, I’m troubled at the sight of the trees across the parking lot. Since my arrival this morning, I’ve had trouble concentrating. My attention keeps getting drawn away from my work. It’s too early in the year for leaves to fall to the ground. The morning …
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Jessie M. Rogers walked into The Watering Hole on Sunday afternoon for the weekly pool tournament. Jessie had the reputation of being one of the best from the other side of town. His wife was four blocks away in the hospital going through cancer treatments. Jessie figured winning this pool tournament would help with his …
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In a nearby coffee shop, at a booth along the back wall, sits silver-haired Jermiah Green and a twenty-something woman named Elizabeth across from each other. Neither one pays attention to their drinks. “Why are you not following up on the calls I’ve assigned to you?” Mr. Green asks. “You didn’t hire me to call …
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Ron scrapes the remainder of his oatmeal into the garbage. Then he lifts the full trash bag and ties it off. Ron opens the door to take it down to the dumpster. He stops. “Oh, hi.” His gaze fixes on the open door across the hall. The door to 224 is open. In it stands …
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I was made to assist bank customers in their bank transactions. A smelly man used and placed me in his shirt pocket like he owned me. When home, I got shoved into a dirty, dark place with others. I remained there for days and possibly weeks. Because there was no clock or window, I could …
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In the summer, my Saturday morning habit consisted of checking out yard sales. With the purpose of finding ideas for the articles I write or find that one specific item I could not live without. This one Saturday, I found the former. Actually, more than an idea for an article, but the source for many …
Read MoreI get asked how I create my characters. Most of the time it happens during the early morning hours, in between a dreamlike state and reaching for my first cup of coffee. Sometimes I have this imaginary conversation with them, other times my mind listens to them tell me their story. Below is one such …
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“Tell me the truth. Are you going to leave me?” Mark Reynolds stands on the sidewalk on a cool summer morning. Mark’s heart sinks. He stands frozen, wanting Ellen to talk to him.
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I routinely like to sit coffee shops, observe people, and write about what I see in a notebook or on my laptop.. Occasionally, someone will walk up to me and stick up a conversation. On a rarer occasion, I will strike up a conversation with someone who looks interesting. On this one occasion, a stranger …
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