What is left when we are gone? We all leave footprints in the dust.
Rob pulled the DeSoto into the JulieCab yard and left it running.
He handed the fare envelope & clipboard to Julie and said goodnight. Julie was closing down. Her younger sister, Mary, had already started daytime dispatching.
Medieval French soldiers had a name for a death blow delivered to mortally wounded comrades.
They called it the coup de gras,
the touch of grace. Many celebrate the concept today.
Telling an untruth is not the same as lying. People accused of lying are often telling what they think is true.
It’s not a lie unless they know what they’re saying isn’t true.
Cinema has a thousand fathers, all of them labored at nearly the same time to create the illusion of pictures moving. Innovators in England, France, Germany, and America all contributed significantly to the history of cinema.
There are no membership rolls, but the members know each other as soon as they meet.
Summe fades. Green leaves are turning yellow. Some have fallen. A month from now the remaining leaves will be ablaze in color. A month after that they’ll be spread lifeless & brown, like a mortuary quilt on the lawn
They left Pugatory for a Paradise of warm sea breezes, plams, and blue-green waters.
killing would have been the straightforward solution. I didn’t want to kill them. I wanted them gone.
There are fishermen who focus on catching fish. Such men care more about catchin’ than fishin’. There are other fishermen who don’t much care about the catching. They care about time in the open air, time free from duty, time to reflect.
Those are the fishin’ interests that interest me.
Perfidy lied to Ploughboy. She told him he was handsome. She said he was the best tiller in all of Foggyshire. She said her heart beat faster whenever he with her. Ploughboy flushed with joy at her words. He walked away enchanted by her sweet praise.
It’s a gentle spring rain, peaceful
and beautiful, though it might change at any time. It might become violent later. It doesn’t matter. Whether gentle rain or full-blown storm,
the comfort of being inside remains. .
Alright. Alight. Alright. Welcome friends, welcome. This is What’s Up radio broadcasting from big, beautiful, clear-channel WALTZ.
I’m Tuck Avery, and by my side, Buzz Belton, the brother I never wanted.
We wanna know what Liberty means
to you.
I have long been fascinated by shallow pools of clear water. I’m drawn to them by charm I do not understand. They’re inviting in some mystical, perhaps primordial way. Memories seem to be connected to such pools, though I have no such conscious memories.
There are theories that memories can be carried by genes. Am I remembering some time before time. If so, then why doesn’t everyone.
“That’s a very tiny piece of paper”. “Yeah, but I’ll do the job”. “Alright, Jimmy, You never set me wrong, yet”.
Jeff places the tiny bit of paper on his tongue and swallows. Jimmy hands him a pill. “Take this with the acid”. “What’s this”? “Dramamine, it’s for travel sickness, funny, huh? Dramamine works for LSD trips the same as it works for train & planes”.
Welcome, welcome, welcome. This is What’s Up radio broadcasting from big, beautiful clear-channel WALTZ. I’m Tuck Avery. My co-conspirator is Buzz Belton. We wanna know what you think about friends. We all have friends: good friends; disappointing friends. friends we didn’t know we had; all kinds of friends.
I enjoy learning how writers write.
I like to know what they have to say about their work. Where do they they write? What strategies do they use. How do they know when they’ve written well? Variety is expected.
Similarities are more instructive.