Stories. Enjoy!

  • Start Here

    New to Five Minute Observations? Welcome. I’m Joe Class III, and I write stories and essays about what I notice, the encounters that reveal something true, and the moments that stick with you after they’re gone. If you’re just getting started, these three pieces will give you a sense of what this space is about:…

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  • Key? What key?

    “You don’t have the key?” Marcus yanked at the handcuffs, chaining his wrist to the steering wheel. The metal clinked, sharp, final. “What do you mean you don’t have it? Where’s the key?” Sunlight reflected off the chrome cuffs, flashing straight into his eyes. No sunglasses? Zero mercy from the star. His hangover pounding behind…

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  • Today, my thoughts turn to birthdays. Dad is 77 today, living through the Vietnam War, the Challenger Explosion, and the fall of the Berlin Wall. I don’t know about you, but birthdays are a big deal. Being forgotten about on a milestone birthday, like 16 or 21? That’s not something you forget. Nor is it…

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  • Two restaurants, one time for brunch, the second for an early dinner. Four retail stores, which included a stop at Target. One stop for gas. All that in less than twenty miles, round trip. Our smiles, sincerity, and caring attitude, netted us various replies, like “Wow! Thank you for being so considerate.” “I really appreciate…

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  • Not what I expected to see on my walk this morning, traversing almost five miles in less than two hours. An armadillo, on the trail, watching and sniffing the air, waiting for me to pass by. An armadillo! Squirrels? I expect to see these little tree rats scurrying about, gathering nuts and whatnot. But a…

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  • “Julian! Welcome. Please won’t you come in?” Sandra, opening the door let out a surge of cool air. It was the middle of July in Alabama and here Julian wore a long-sleeved, button-down forest green shirt buttoned up at the wrists, black jeans, and Birkenstocks with his stark white socks. Sandra Fredrickson, a co-worker, invited…

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  • Be Nice

    Honestly, I didn’t think much of it, until a few hours later it was repeated. “You both are so nice!” The sentiment echoed through the evening and into the next day without so much as either on of us thinking about it. Which made we wonder, what happened? Have we become so jaded, thanks in…

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  • Trying to write in the later part of the afternoon or early evening is super hard for me. I function so much better in the morning. All my creative energy is focused on the time of day when it makes the most sense. Not that I cannot be creative later in the afternoon. But I…

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  • Ever since I can remember, we’ve been trying to find shortcuts to writing. High school and college kids do their best to figure out loopholes through this thing we call writing. In high school, we learned all about CliffsNotes, those magical yellow books covered with black ink, making it look like a bumble bee attacked…

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  • Magic. It’s inside a story. Your story. Within you is the potential to create or destroy, heal or hurt. Your gift is your story. Your ability to share with others what you’ve learned, how you’ve been helped, or what’s hurt you so that they will pass that along to others. There is nothing magnificent about…

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  • “How would you describe Nick Gather?” Father John Jacobs, a Catholic priest stood in front of the pulpit in the viewing room, the guests, visitors, and family far exceeding the room’s maximum capacity. It was warm for the second day in May in Missouri. The central air conditioner unit barely kept the room cool enough…

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