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⚽ 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.
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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His hair was dirty from sleeping in the local park, still matted with leaves, twigs, and dirt. The downpour refreshed the homeless man, a smile creeping across his toothless mouth. Holding both hands out, palms upward, he threw his head back, laughing. Onlookers stared, wondering where his joy came from. “Mister,” the young girl asked,
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Smiling and hugging, the two men greeted each other like long-lost friends who’d not seen each other for years. Thirty years. That was the last time they talked face to face. Several life changes happened to each of them. One tragically lost his best friend to a massive stroke, and the other lost his son
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Standing behind the curtain, he held his blanket in his left hand, his right thumb stuck in his mouth, sucking away. Two silhouettes, one shorter than the other, stood in the shadows whispering, believing he was in bed. What they said, the young boy did not know, but it sounded – sad. Doing his best
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Helping Hands Network. It started out as a project for Emily, mostly because she was tired of being bored during the Parent Teacher Conferences at her son’s junior high school. The other Moms attending were working and middle class. None of them had money or resources like she and Jonathan had. She could have enrolled
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“I’m only going to say this one more time, Emily.” Jonathan’s entire body tensed up. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with Emily. This was becoming a regular thing between them, most often about whose function or event they would be attending. Usually, the Bank President won out over the sitting President
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Persistent knocking on the door to her suite disturbed her sleep. “What do you want?” she shouted. “Ms. Chiges. It’s time to leave. We have to be at the airport in twenty minutes.” “Isn’t the plane mine?” “Technically, Ms. Chiges, yes. But Ms. Chiges, we have a schedule to keep. If we are even a
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To start with, this guy. I don’t even know how to describe him because to do so, at least in this day and age of everyone being offended about every little thing means to accurately describe him, would take some doing. Let’s start with his stylish clothing. He was dressed to the nines, almost like
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“You are outta your-ever-lovin’ mind, Bill!” Shouting, the oversized man pointed at the television screen. “There ain’t no way that the Cubs are gonna beat the Cardinals this year. It ain’t gonna happen.” He sipped his coffee while pointing to the screen. In the corner of the café was a flatscreen television tuned to the
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Grow up around any creative industry, and chances are you won’t see it like everyone else. For example, if your Dad is a football coach for an NFL team, the chances of you not meeting a famous player are very low. If your Mom works as a CPA for an accounting firm that only deals
Stories. Enjoy!
5 Minute Observations 