Five Minute Observations

Author: Joe Class III

  • The Weight of the Keys 

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Warren liked order. He liked knowing where things went, how they worked, and who was responsible for what. He liked unlock-and-lock routines, the satisfying click of certainty at the end of the day. That’s why he’d said yes when they asked him to join the committee. Not because he wanted authority. He told himself that…

  • A Life in Common

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Love looks like staying. You choose not to say the thing that hurts because today? It’s not the right day. You choose patience, telling yourself that giving out grace is best. But like it or not, a marriage, or even a church, often ends long before the final, resolute goodbye. There’s no shouting. It doesn’t…

  • White Paint

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Pledge wood cleaner. The scent of lemon washed over Marla the second she stepped through the church doors. A sharp citrus scent and underneath it, something much older, mustier, harder to scrub away. Old hymnals. Wool carpet. The smell ancient churches accumulate whether they want to or not. It’s a smell Marla notices because she…

  • The Woman at the Intersection

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in ,

    I didn’t sleep the rest of that night. I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, replaying Oliver’s voice. What if she’s been watching ever since? 6 AM. Sitting at my kitchen table, coffee within reach, and my laptop open, scouring all the public records I could, looking for Patricia Denton. It didn’t take long…

  • The Last Conversation

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Margaret sits across from her best friend Elena in Elena’s kitchen, smelling both the hot cinnamon rolls and the fresh-brewed coffee. Twenty-five years of marriage, and it comes down to this. A Tuesday morning, sitting at Elena’s worn oak table. Alone in her car, she practiced these words. They’re tougher to say out loud to…

  • The Witness

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Oliver walked out of Henderson Hardware into the late May afternoon, a plastic bag in one hand and a crowbar in the other. He wore what he always wore for weekend projects: khaki cargo shorts, a faded Cardinals t-shirt, and the old New Balance sneakers Sarah used to tease him about. She’d been gone four…

  • The Weaver’s Last Gift

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “That’s it?” The princess stares at him as if she finished drinking poison. The Weaver shifts in the chair, making a terrible creaking noise, as if it would fall apart at any moment. The slight movement sends a sharp pain shooting down his spine, making him grimace. His joints and bones creak like the chair,…

  • The Thursday That Slipped

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Thursday vanished from Des Moines without so much as an apology. Me and Oliver Finch? We noticed. Everyone else? Forgot. But Oliver watched time misbehave before. And he never trusted it twice.

  • The Missing Building – Part VII: Conclusion

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    The Missing Building concludes tonight! Paul Sullivan finally meets the ghost who’s haunted him for thirty years. Some doors, once opened, can never be closed. What price would you pay to see beyond the ordinary world? Part VII drops now. Link in comments. #fiction #mystery #serializedstory

  • The Missing Building – Part VI

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Ruby reveals the horrifying truth about Paul’s grandfather and his ties to TRI. It’s time for Paul to make an impossible choice, as they race through the parking garage shadows. The Missing Building is racing toward its stunning conclusion! Stay tuned for the last chapter, coming soon!

  • The Missing Building – Part V

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “I’ll help you find Ruby.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Gracie’s hand gripped mine so tight my knuckles turned white. Johnson nodded once. “Smart choice, Mr. Sullivan.” “I have conditions.” He smiled. “Of course you do.” But some deals come with a price, one that neither of us expected.

  • The Missing Building – Part IV

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    They practiced this dance before. We hadn’t. Three black Suburbans. No escape. Agent Johnson wants fifteen minutes to talk. Fifteen minutes to change everything. The continuation of The Missing Building by Joe Class III

  • Stop Calling People Demonic Before You Know Their Story 

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Have you ever read something on social media that made you literally sit up and take notice? “That’s demonic!” did it for me. Here’s why we need to stop calling people demonic before we know their story.

  • Christmas Number Five

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Before I turned six, Christmas meant joy. Now it’s a reminder of what’s missing. This year something’s shifting, and I’m more than ready to experience this season differently.

  • The Missing Building – Part III

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in ,

    The shower didn’t help. Twenty minutes of hot water, and I still couldn’t figure out what to say to Agent Johnson. Or whoever he really was. After eight men show up at 3 AM looking for my cousin Ruby, I need answers. But when I dial the number on his business card, nothing is what…

  • The Missing Building – Part II

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in ,

    An impossible photograph and a woman who knows too much. A grandfather dead for thirty years, alive. Paul’s quiet retirement? It’s over.

  • Bringing Funnel Cakes to Homecomers

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Nervous parents take a risk, driving to Jackson, Missouri in 1981. What starts as a five-minute chat becomes a glimpse into how a Homecomers tradition was born.

  • The Missing Building

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    One unexpected photograph lands on the table at Dan’s Drive-In Diner, and the building in the picture? It might not exist anymore.

  • Grateful

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Father, Wake me in the morning. Fill my lungs with breath. Strengthen my legs to run. Give me imagination, vision, and light. Let me see everything You have graciously given me. The sun rises because You love us. You show me how to be a good father. You hold me in Your hand through grief…

  • When Did Showing Kindness Become Unpopular?

    —

    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    COVID-19. That’s what broke us, fracturing our collective cultural souls. Locking our doors to keep out the virus. Watching our neighbors’ suspicious activity. Somehow we lost two full years of casual, everyday interactions. The very ones reminding us we are human.Two years later, emerging from our isolation, we forgot. We stopped being kind. Today a…