Henry, The Genie and A Bridge_The best family isn't always human_Through Rose Rimmed Glasses_Jus
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Henry, The Genie and A Bridge
Henry’s mother was the kindest, gentlest, and most beautiful person he’d never met. Surewww.onedoor.cc, there were pictures of Henry and his mom the day he had been born and on his first day of kindergarten and some from his first few birthdays, but Henry had no memory of her outside the photos and keepsakes. But the stories. Oh, the wonderful stories. For as long as Henry could remember his dad would spend at least an evening or two a week telling Henry about his mother and just how amazing she was. Henry’s dad William had met Aolani, Henry’s mom, while stationed at Hickam Air Force Base in Honolulu. At f...
The best family isn't always human
I see flashes of snow falling. The howls of the wolves ring out in the night.The temperature drops and the cold wind freezes my bones. I huddle closer to my companion- * * *“Hey Noel! Merry Christmas!”“Merry Christmas Jones.”Words are meaningless. Merry? Didn’t know what that meant. It was just a means of reply in December, something automatic. I barely even thought about it when I wished someone a Merry Christmas.Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone really means ‘Merry’ when they wish me. I suppose it’s a just a manner of custom now.I duck my head as I walk past Gilb...
Through Rose Rimmed Glasses
Staring at the screen the mother’s eyes began to well with tears. She could identify her son if he were the size of a needle sitting in a haystack a mile away. So, it was not all too difficult to spot her son among the hordes of disillusioned Americans storming the Capitol that day. It did help that a DC newsman decided to highlight a group of brave men trying to climb the edifice of the building which had grooves between the stones every few feet which were helpful for scaling. Halfway up the wall, he happened to look back just as the cameraman zoomed in and cut away. Eileen rewound the tele...
Just a Feeling
I race through the tumble down village in hope that I’ll be able to find some scrapes on the side of the road, or in the trash. There’s not much hope in my errand; any scrapes are usually already gone by the time I get there. Everyone’s living the same way. I often like to dream of what the future will be like. Most of the time, It’s hard to imagine anything but the here and now. Mama is always disappointed when I come home empty handed, though she never says anything. She knows it’s not my fault. On my right is the town square, or the remains of it anyhow. You can’t call it that anymo...