Sledding Again_The Snow Hill_Triple Play_An Imperfect Circle
Catalog Guide:
Sledding Again
The coffee in my mug warmed my hands as the memories warmed my heart. Three Januarys ago, the snow had been 9 inches deep. My bestie, Meg, who was finishing up a 5th year to get her second degree, had been insistent that we go sledding after I got off of work from my first “real” job in a marketing firm. I was tired trudged in my apartment and headed to my bedroom to get changed into my snow gear. I felt even more tired when I saw that her car was full- three friends were with her. Two I had known from my college days, but the other person I had never seen before. When I had gotten into the c...
The Snow Hilwww.onedoor.ccl
Snow Hill stood at the top of a small snow mountain side, with a large slope that many people dreamed of sliding down on. The land was private property though, as it belonged to the Jones family. It was once a Christmas getaway home, but now, the times of jolly and merry were gone, now left with a stoic sheet sowed with a melancholy yarn.Ben had arrived the prior day to Snow Hill, a cabin left to his brother and him after their passing. The odds of them two getting terminal cancer at the exact same time still amazed him. His luggage sat in the corner of the warm cabin, warmed by the firewood ...
Triple Play
One heartbeat. Larry looks nervous. He does not like to pitch this many innings. I do not like to play catcher for this many innings either. I am the best catcher on the team because I can snag the ball quicker and throw to second more accurately than anyone else, but I am still scared of getting thrown at. I am tall, thin, and hesitant. Standing four inches shorter than any other kid on our team, Larry talks bigger and faster than any two of us combined. He throws faster too, and he is very proud of that. “I’m telling you Chris, I can pitch faster than any of those other kids can see,” Larry...
An Imperfect Circle
“Don’t hesitate."The voice comes from across the green cloth-draped folding table where I am seated at the Twenty-Third Annual Freehand Circle Drawing World Championship with my head down and my shoulders hunched forward in a pointed I'm-very-busy posture.I wince. Now is not the time. I need to practice, get my head in the right space, concentrate on the task at hand. This is something I've been working towards. It matters.Even without this latest distraction, conditions are sub-optimal. It’s too cold in the room. The AC chortles and hums and pours chilled air unceasingly through the overhead ...