Daniel planed the final piece of timber. A few more shavings and he knew that it would fit. He wasn’t happy with one section so he spent another minute sanding it.
He admired his work.
The other two stood on plinths. He never considered himself arrogant. They were beautiful and in perfect proportion.
Tex and I rode the straight road south with a shaggy haired driver in a tight green shirt. Tex leaned over from the back seat. “We’re pretty hungry. Can you give us those food stamps on your dash?”
“I guess so” The driver’s voice quavered. He braked a little too close to the car in front of us. Then he lifted his head to look in the rear view mirror. “Maybe if you go swimming with me?”
“We need the food stamps,” said Tex.
Leila has rootled out a story from back in the early day and written by the founder of the site. Here is what she had to say about Adam’s story:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Madam Panagoulias and the Pithos by Adam West”
Well here we are at Week 270.
I heard the best example of the pot calling the kettle black this week.
There was some Politician or another (They are all the same to me) stating that we should never believe what we read in the papers. I agree but he did have more cheek than ten arses to say anything about believability.
With Respect to P.H. Emerson’s Fairy Tale, “The Crows”
I woke up this morning to the sound of crows cawing outside my window.
As I lay staring at the ceiling, I wondered how many were gathered in the yard, perched along the aging wooden fence, watching. And waiting. Was a single bird calling out in search of a friend? Were there two or three, or more, chasing away the deer that liked to nibble on Mom’s yellow roses?
Maybe they were trying to tell me something, as only crows can do.
“Err…Ladies and Gentlemen…The Groom.”
The wee mousey man backed away out the door. The groom stood up championing Sports Direct and eating a Gregg’s sausage roll.
Continue reading “Joint Claim (A Modern Marriage) by Hugh Cron – Warning Adult Content.”
A black and green lamppost, tall with chipped paint, across from Bryant Park, in front of a classic brown and gold twelve storied building, the wind reeking of the park’s dead yellow grass, cigarette smoke, automobile exhaust and blood. Hanging from the lamppost is a half-skinned, large white male wearing only trousers, supported by ropes about his torso, legs and arms. In agony, still alive but barely. New York City is some kind of town these days. He will be dead in less than a day.
Ah, Saugus, the town I took to Korea many years ago, savored, brought back! Images strike here, deadly accurate in their mark. Metaphors, booted and buckled and loaded for bear, ride horseback through my town, holding forever in place. At times they ride roughshod or, taking a breath, saunter a bit, smelling new-cut hay over hill, or marsh grass caught up in light appreciation of salt about the air, all Atlantic talking.
Realization comes too. Times there were when our river was like an old man trying to get into bed, slow climb at banking, belt or pajamas astray, slight failures. Some springs, it would be caught up in flume’s rush.
Water talks, the sea, the river, the pond.
The town talks. It is heard.
Continue reading “The Story of My Hometown, Saugus, Massachusetts by Tom Sheehan”
“—As you know, the program uses a combination of advanced geometry and quantum computing to respond quickly to market shifts and improve the firm’s pricing of derivatives. It’s also been enormously helpful in the area of risk analysis—”
Sitting at his desk, listening to the young programmer speak, Matt shook his head slowly. As usual, he had no idea what the lanky quant was trying to tell him.
Leila has been doing some detective work this time, she knew what she wanted but not where it was stored. Nothing daunted she has found it and here is what she said.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Garuka – Please come back by Ogunyemi, Ernest O”
