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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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Floyd complains about lukewarm coffee, sparking banter with Kathy in a slow-paced diner.
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A hodgepodge of memories built from various adventures, starting from the patriarch of invention and creativity, my Dad. In his mid to late thirties, he started several businesses, including one that began in our garage. “Would you like to make some money?” That was a question James, Jon, and I heard often. Sometimes, we would…
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That’s how Brad, Justin, Mikey, Terry, and I became friends. When you are little, think kindergarten or first-grade age, you only meet the people you live closest to. Or you make friends at school and hope their parents can pick you up or drop you off to play. But as you get older, say in…
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Empty. Empty and quiet. I hated it. Then again, I was just a kid who absolutely hated quiet! I loved being around people, all kinds of people. The older the people, the better. At eight, adults were way more interesting than kids my own age. But right now, it was just our family. Me. Dad.…
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“Wait, what was that?” Pulling out the earbuds, Gina looked over her shoulder where the sound came from. “Can you please move?” The woman was wearing sunglasses inside, which was the first thing Gina noticed. Second were the extravagant pearls hanging from her neck. Gina saw lots of women wearing pearls in southern California. But…
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I heard that sentence thirty years ago or more. Write what you know. Show us, don’t tell us. Incorporate personal experiences into your fiction writing. And so many more tips, tricks, and advice, all designed to make me a better writer. And you know what I discovered? I see a lot more than I think…
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“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The boy sneered at the strange man. “I’m telling you,” he repeated, staring at the boy. “That’s really not a good idea.” The boy was standing in front of a store, a big sign plastered in the window. The sign read, “Don’t make faces in the window.…
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“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…
Stories. Enjoy!
