Fork in the Road_My Average Family_What They Say_Sins of the Father
Catalog Guide:
Fork in the Road
A Fork in the Road When you come to a fork in the road, take it. Yogi BerraUntil it started, I lived a normal life --wife, two children, nice house, good job; nothing exciting. It brought a little excitement in the beginning, but when it continued night after night, I began to worry. Although I told myself, it’s a dream, just a dream, telling this didn’t help much. It seemed the day before the dreams began was the last day of happiness I would ever have. When I woke and opened my eyes, I immediately narrowed and then shut them. I didn’t want to leave the world of the dream. Maybe I just live i...
My Average Family
My Average FamilyI have looked at these photo albums many times. But it wasn’t until I retired, that I opened them again and saw the pictures in a whole new light.I came from an average family, or so I thought. Summers as a kid, cars came rolling into our dusty driveway. Relatives poured out and into our spare bedrooms, bellied up to the large dinner table and swam in the creek behind our house. An only child, I reveled in ready-made friends and vacation from school.“Here comes your dozens of cousins,” Mom used to say to me.Not until my early retirement and the genealogy craze did I begin to...
What They Say
Somewhere near the West Coast, when we were almost out of the mountain pass, Jackson slowed the car, pointed into the denwww.onedoor.ccse forest, and spoke over the thud of music.“My uncle went missing around here, long time ago.”“What happened, was he found?”I didn’t look at him, not wanting to seem too eager. We met nearly a year ago, long enough we had moved in together, short enough I was still discovering new things about him.Like this, he had blasted music all the way down since we drove off the ferry, and it was a way for him to not have to talk. Days ago, he’d gotten a phone call from his father tel...
Sins of the Father
Sins of the Father “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been...waow, years since my last confession,” the man said, that fact obviously just dawning on him. A short, throaty chuckle from the listening side of the confessional reminded him of a department store Santa. “I’m not here to judge,” the priest said. “I’m just the middle man; now, tell me your sins” “Sin, Father,” the man said, correcting him. “I’m sorry?” “There’s just the one sin, Father.” “Go on,” the priest said hesitantly. “I killed a man, Father.” “I’m sorry?” “I killed a man.” “When was this?” the priest asked. “And how?”...