An Old Man Watches The Farmer Break (as published in BluePrint Magazine)
I couldn’t help but watch from the deck.
The day unrolling properly.
The earth still pushing the grass from it’s skin, so
the blades stood tall as the neighbour’s mower cut them down.
I checked my reflection in the window- so not
to lose track of myself- and
repositioned my glasses,
catching sight of the police. (Continue reading here)
Love (as published in BluePrint Magazine)
A man of good stature leaves the CEO’s office, closing the door behind him to end the day. In a fine suit, younger than his newborn daughter, he makes his way out of the office building and to his car.
“Going home to meet the flowers,” he sings to himself.
The flowers in tune are the multi-coloured roses that were delivered to his wife this morning.
“If she’s got ‘em in a vase it means things are well.” This particular verse he sings jazzily.
“Briefcase first.”
The man tosses his briefcase into the car ahead of himself. He turns on the car and it runs. It runs on the road under the sky and through 20 minutes of the evening. It runs from his office to his house athletically. Continue reading here.
The Blog Family Stories; #1 A Short About the Accident, and #2 A Short About Saying Mean Things (as published with TheBoar.ca)
The Blog family had a very busy day. It was Friday, November 13th and it was sunny outside with a few clouds.
The smallest member of the Blog family was little Markie Blog. Markie liked to be referred to as Mark because he felt it was more manly. Mark was six years old.
Mark’s mother, Susan Blog, had recently broken three of her toes when she dropped a load of eight text books on her right foot. Susan Blog was a compassionate teacher but was finding life to be a struggle with broken toes. Of her new found toe related issues, Susan thought driving was the most difficult. Continue Reading here.
What The Nameless Gentleman Didn’t Think He Should Say (as published with TheBoar.ca)
Leeroy was sitting alone near the front door. He sat with a coffee and a donut. At the table next to him a nameless gentleman sat alone with a coffee, having already finished his own donut. In Leeroy’s left hand he held a novel that he was busy reading.
“I tell you what,” the nameless gentleman spoke. “It’s so cold out there that my fingers fell off.” The man brought his left arm from bellow the table, revealing a stump just beyond the wrist. “Yea, I lost my typers which is a shame because I used to do computers when they first came out.”
Leeroy tucked the stir stick from his coffee between the pages of his novel to mark his place. “It is cold out there,” he agreed.
“It’s been a day of a night I tell you young fella, lots goin’ on. Hit a deer with the truck way back around midnight. This time of year hunters are always scaring ‘em out of the woods. The kicker is I didn’t stop until 2 am to clean it off the grill. That was a mistake – but I don’t think I should be talking to you about my mistakes.” The nameless gentleman then paused to look at the floor. “Hell I almost had the truck in the ditch twice before I found this haven. Thanks for the coffee eh?” Continue reading here.
Roving for Chisos: A Journey Into (as published in BluePrint Magazine)
The dogs struggle initially, kicking sand into my face with little productivity, but soon they pull together and the sleigh picks up speed. In no time I am being transported across the granular terrain at about twenty kilometers per hour. Here I am, a 38-year-old anthropologist exploring the Big Bend Area of West Texas, isolating myself in the desert with hopes of coming across a new clan of homo sapiens rumored to be living at the foot of the Chisos Mountains; my step cousin would be proud. She is a simple minded fan of sandboxes, sand castles and digging. There is no doubt that she would be impressed by all the sand I have found here.
The sleigh was a last minute addition to the trip. Initially I outfitted a jeep with special tires and special headlights but was informed by an old local man living at the edge of the desert that, like snow, sand was best traveled by dog sleigh. Attracted by the idea of an insider’s tip, I left the Jeep with the wise veteran and rented a five dog sleigh he happened to have available for $300. “Remember what I told you,” he said as I left.
Now, well under the intense Texan sun, I rummage through my bag looking for a pair of sun glasses to shield my eyes. Digging past my required reading for the trip, Bill Bryson’s Take Your Travel to the Next Level: A Detailed Account of my Journey to Space, digging past my mix tape of various Jon Bon Jovi classics, underneath my deodorant, matches and mirror, on top of my tweezers and toothbrush, I find my sunglasses. Continue reading here.
