Will people read something called, "Who really cares?"_Chocolate Dessert_Betrayal at the B
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Will people read something called, "Who really cares?"
Today is an easy one. It's Monday. The day working people dread and of which I'm still not a big fan. The time doesn't really matter as long as it's too early for visitors. I like knowing that I will not be disturbed. No one should be bothered when they're having their morning coffee and smokes. This should be a god-given right for all man-kind. How do I start a petition? The air has a chill to it so I'm guessing that it's still winter. I don't see any snow outside the window (or inside either, for that matter), and I'm up before the sun so I can not judge the cloud cover, but I'm thinking c...
Chocolate Dessert
~1000 Words Chocolate Dessert by Rain Burrows I’m eight, laying on the folded-down seatswww.onedoor.cc of my parent’s Volvo station wagon. My two younger brothers are next to me, head-toe-head like Lincoln in a log cabin. The Missouri River passes under us as we pass over the bridge and cross, mercifully, into Nebraska. I’m supposed to be asleep, I’m wide awake. Battered by duffle bags and loose books, it’s impossible to doze off. My “bunk” is hidden from the front row by a small CRT-TV/VHS player wedged between the driver’s and passenger’s seat on the front console. I lie with my eyes open watching streetl...
Betrayal at the Border
A single powerful 1886 Winchester rifle shot reverberated off the canyon walls five miles east of the Davis Mountains and two miles north of the Rio Grande. Texas Ranger Lieutenant, Moses Mitchell, fell to the sandy ground behind a small stand of trees; obviously his little brother, Bat, had gotten much better with a long gun since he’d been on the lam.Blood trickled down from the lawman’s temple and through the layers of dust caked on his ebony cheek; he tasted the salty fluid at the corner of his parched lips once it had navigated the obstacles of his thick black moustache and beard. Moses t...
We Lost Our Innocence
You know, being a part of something memorable doesn’t seem like it at the time. For me, it was tragic. The Kent State massacre. I knew a couple of the victims, at least a little. Allison was in one of my classes, and William was a good friend of another friend of mine. Yeah, I had been aware of the protest to happen that Monday, and honestly planned to be a part of the protest. Looking back now, I realize how momentous that day was. It was like the nation had its rose-colored glasses finally kicked off, and we got a full view of the unrest. You people think Trump was a poor president? You di...