L.A. Baby_I Survived Camping_Interlude_Bravely On
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L.A. Baby
The plastic bench was hot to the touch and its pattern left imprints in her skin. Sweat dripped down the back of her legs. It was close to 90 degrees and the last thing she wanted to do was sit at a bus stop. The sign that listed the bus times rattled in the wind, but the breeze did nothing to relieve her from the heat and only pushed the muggy air from one end of the block to the other. She tapped her foot back and forth as sowww.onedoor.ccmeone nearby leaned into their horn.The bus was late, which wasn’t atypical of Los Angeles, but it felt like a cruel joke. Maybe it was her punishment for almost not com...
I Survived Camping
My best friend, Carol, and I bet on a coin toss (dumb, I know). If I won, she had to go to a concert with me, any kind, rock, blues, classical. I've invited Carol so many times, and she never goes. Fleetwood Mac was on tour again, and I wanted her to experience it. Of course, I get, "Why does anyone drive for two hours, stand in line, and sit in a place with hundreds or maybe thousands of screaming, sweaty, crazed people? Why?" She'll never get it.If I lost, I had to go camping for a weekend. My response: "Carol, why would anyone hike for miles, wrestle a tent up, make a fire, eat half-cooked ...
Interlude
“Good morning!”“Huh.”“Good morning!”“Who’s that?”“It’s me, silly.”“Who are you?”“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t tell me you can’t remember.”“...”“We knew each other on Earth...”“Um…”“Well I guess when I think about it, we didn’t really know each other for that long. At least not from your perspective.” “Am I… uh... … missing something?”“No and yes. You are ‘dead’, as you Earthlings call it. You no longer have your human body. Do you remember your death?”“I don’t remember a single damn thing.”“Don’t worry, that’s normal. It should come back soon.”“Where are we anyway? Is this Hell? Purgatory? Is ...
Bravely On
As quickly as possible after their son left for college, Derek and Cathy sold their home in the big city and took up permanent residence in the plain but proud double wide that for the past 20 years had been dubbed their “country home.” The place soon looked lived in with flowering plants and rocking chairs on the porch and a red-barn storage building at the end of the brick walk leading from the front steps. Derek, a tall and stoic man, loved life there on the 40 partially wooded acres just outside a small town near Mark Twain Lake. Cathy, 13 years Derek’s junior and short of stature was qui...