-
⚽ Twelve 8-year-olds + 200mg of caffeine + one mortified coach = the best bar story you’ll hear today. Trust us, you want to hear how this ends.
-
A late-night traffic stop becomes a reminder: storytelling connects us, grounds us, and makes us known. In a world of strangers, our stories are how we find our way home.
-
Grant’s thoughts about purchasing the Toyota snapped away when the officer softly tapped the driver’s side window. “Hello? Can you roll down the window for me, sir?” Grant didn’t realize the young officer was standing next to his door. The lights were blinding and hypnotizing all at the same time. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.” He quickly
-
Before I was old enough to read, I told stories. Imagination incubated, spit out into the world through my limited toddler vocabulary. After being taught how to read and write, the magic turned from oral stories to written stories. Now I was writing my own material, reading everything I could to get ideas, even the
-
Staring right at me, I thought she would start screaming, yelling at the top of her lungs. Before you start in on me, I just want to set the record straight – I didn’t start this argument. No. Really. I didn’t. It wasn’t my fault. But then again, the guilty always have a way of
-
“Take my hand!” His lips mouthed the words. I couldn’t hear what the medic standing over me was saying, and nothing. I tried to get my body to work. It felt like a thousand needles in my fingertips, that same feeling you get when your extremities fall asleep. Or if you lay on your arm
-
“I cannot believe you, Bianca.” Bianca’s mother opened the trunk of her Mercedes. Inside were three garment bags, a makeup case, and four shoe boxes. Each box had a different name brand plastered on the outside. Two were high heels, and the other two were flats. Bianca was sobbing. Standing in line ten minutes ago,
-
Hot dogs steaming in their own juice. Popcorn. That sickeningly sweet-blown sugar smell of cotton candy. Sometimes blue, but most often, it was that sticky bubble gum pink color. Corn chips and the nacho cheese slathered all over them in those flimsy paper trays. Most kids shied away from the jalapenos, but a few of
-
Music. It’s the one thing keeping me grounded. I know. A lot of people wonder how you can possibly think when you are listening to songs with lyrics. Songs that make you think and feel. I don’t know. But I can. Plus, I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember. School isn’t
-
A wave, the biggest one I’ve ever seen, coming straight towards me – from the Mississippi River? Over the top of the river wall, at least a third of the distance of the wall. So, what? Fifteen feet? At the low end? I don’t know. I was never all that great at judging distance, especially
-
“Nathan, you can’t disclose people’s personal identification numbers just because you can figure it out. Besides, how do you know you are correct? You take their card?” The two servers were standing out back of Geovanni’s Italian eatery, one of the finer restaurants in Macon, Georgia. “Dude. You always have access to their card.” “You
-
Thirteen years old. You aren’t old enough to drive a car. But this is the age where the seeds of freedom are being planted. You aren’t old enough to understand abstract thinking but are slowly moving there. Everything is black and white – kind of. Emotions are high, all over the map. Everything in your
-
“Right, right, right.” “Are you just agreeing with me?” “Why on earth would I do that?” “Um, I don’t know? To mess with me?” “Why would I want to mess with you?” I’d never seen this woman dressed in capris with red heels, a crème colored blouse, pearls around her neck, and a full-length thinly
-
Thanksgiving. Christmas. Our thoughts turn to presents, good food, and company, all of which you’ve worked so diligently throughout the year. And, like it or not, Western culture typically thinks of generosity as giving from your wallet, in terms of cold, hard cash, or a lucrative donation. The simplest definition of the word generous is
Stories. Enjoy!
5 Minute Observations 