Nautical Neophytes_I am The Crow_Poor Petitions_The Human Project.
Catalog Guwww.onedoor.ccide:
Nautical Neophytes
It was summer of 1976 in Springfield, Missouri. Jeff and I were at the Village Inn Pancake House. It was nearly midnight on a Friday and we were knocking down breakfast, which had become a weekend tradition after knocking down several beers at the Alibi Lounge. During that era in Smalltown, USA the Inn was about the only place you could get breakfast at that time of night. I normally had bacon and eggs with biscuits and gravy. Jeff, on the other hand, would always...ALWAYS order pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream on top. Plus, extra pancakes. With the number of pancakes that were sta...
I am The Crow
{The names of the guilty have been changed to protect them from the innocent.}Brandon Lee was dead. An accident they said. Having been around guns since I was old enough to point my finger and say POW! I wasn't sure I believed it. A loaded gun is that, loaded. A live round is an ominous thing to hold. It vibrates with the confined kinetic energy it contains. The graceful flow of the trigger sear releasing the firing pin feels like poetry until the powder ignites. BANG! One has to train themselves not to flinch and pull off target. The best marksmen have nerves like iron and the focus of a pere...
Poor Petitions
Only on Lady Edith’s third invitation to tea, did Lady Mary accept. She had been out of town on the first occasion and had reservations with her husband, Henry, on the second. However, when her old friend approached her after church the Sunday past, Mary found her well of excuses entirely dried up. Lady Edith was quite as busy as Lady Mary had pretended to be, for no item could be forgotten or left unpolished. Ordering the most delicate of finger sandwiches, preparing the tea, dusting the counter, setting out the fine china – indeed, when her powdered and frilled guests arrived, Edith’s crampe...
The Human Project.
I remember just sitting there, painting my nails atop my desk when she walked into the classroom. “she” had brown hair with ratty curls tangled together, baggy black ripped jeans, an ACDC t-shirt, and a black baseball cap that she was wearing backward! She looked like someone who belonged at a skate park by the beach, not the nicest private school in malibu! Besides, where was her uniform? I decided right then and there that I was gonna make her one of us. By us, I meant us. The “It clique” If you will. I don’t quite know what I was thinking, perhaps I was bored, but I wanted a new project, an...