Rube_Linus_Once Upon a..._Fishing for Fall( Abridged)
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Rube
Rube Rube Goldberg Junior was nothing like his father. He, unlike his father, who had dedicated himself to the peculiarly intricate connections between things, people, and situations, found people to be little more than over rated guests of a planet that deserved better. His theories propelled thought to a level where it did not exist as imagined but took on an identity of the one who observed it. Envision a maze where there was more than one possibility of a destination. A collection of pieces put together with the influence of inpidual experience, allowing each participant to define a co...
Linus
LinusI’m not a conscript of nostalgia, but sometimes when you are cleaning out the closet, you find something that causes you to remember something you’ve forgotten about. It happens to me, most often during the holiday season. Why, I am not sure. Perhaps, it maybe that I’m at my most vulnerable, during that time.I was unpacking Christmas ornaments, when I realized that I had wrapped each memorable glistening globe, complete with its silvery bent hook, in newspaper; the funny papers to be exact. I like to use the comic strip pages because they are the most colorful, and I would appreciate, if ...
Once Upon a...
“Did you see this? Love in the time of COVID. A bit plagiaristic, but I can see the possibilities. If it worked for typhoid, I suppose it would work for COVID.” “I think it was typhoid Mary it worked for. Cholera might have been what you were thinking of, or are you attempting to instill the will to create in me? Or could it be you’re just making conversation to keep from having to take out the garbage?” I wonder at times why it bothers me so much, but it does. Talent is something one is born with. To not use it seems like an unsolved riddle. Why or where talent comes from, no one seems to kn...
Fishing for Fall( Abridged)
A little patch of water where the smallest of guppies swam was where we were headed. The radio was off, jazz was playing, but the sound of the car jutting and sputtering over itself was all I could think of. I remember not feeling that blue and white cooler in my lap. I remember the driver, my papa, had a scowl on his face before we got in the car. I used to wonder what he was so upset about...whenever the silence rose between us. “Almost there,” My mother hummed with a hint of emotion. “We shouldn’t be out here.” My dad’s eye slid to the backseat, “Anwww.onedoor.ccd you don’t like fishing.” “ I like to wa...