What You Started_What one Becomes_My Heart_The Man at the Station
Catalog Guide:
What You Started
I stared at the blank word document. As much as I wanted the words to materialize on the page, so elegantly as they had before, they wouldn’t. The only difference between then and now was the fact that it now had to be my words.My emotions fluctuated from panicked, to angry, backed to panicked, then finally to disappointed. “I’m a fraud,” I said aloud, not intending to.“No youwww.onedoor.cc’re not,” my dear wife insisted. She was comfortably spread out on the couch behind me, scrolling through her phone. I could hear in her voice that she was struggling to decide whether or not it was worth staying awake...
What one Becomes
Just how I came to lying in the middle of a grassy field to this day I couldn’t figure out, but there I was staring up at the blue sky. I rolled to my side as I rubbed my eyes when I looked again, I saw my friend lying less than ten feet from me. “Tony?” I said, sitting up and scooting closer to him. “Tony wake up!” I said, giving him a little shake. “What?” Tony said in a groggy voice. He came to a sitting position and pushed his black hair from his eyes. I looked down at his fantasy adventure shirt and back at him. “Did one of your shows happen to us or what buddy?” I asked him. “Where are...
My Heart
I placed her in her carrier car seat. For a nine and a half pound baby she looked incredibly tiny in that thing. Her little hat almost covered her eyes. Her arms and legs were still crunched up tight, her itty bitty hands shaped into fists. I just stood next to her dad and we stared at her. She wasn’t doing anything, just sleeping, but we were so enamored with her. Every miniscule thing she did fascinated us. She was beautiful and perfect. I placed my hand over my heart. The amount of love I felt for her in my heart physically hurt. But it was glorious. The nurse came in just then, pushing a w...
The Man at the Station
12:49 a.m.13th October, 1947Karachi, PakistanThe streets were deserted. The riots due to the India-Pakistan Partition had taken their toll on the citizens. No one dared to come out for fear of being caught and beaten or burnt to death by a crazed, fanatical mob.That is, no one, but my husband, my son and I. We were hurrying along to the train station; there was a train leaving to Jodhpur, India, in fifteen minutes. We would have gone earlier, but fear of the riots stopped us.On the morning of the 12th, a kindly neighbor had informed us that we should beware while leaving. There was a protest s...