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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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American culture is so ingrained in each of us that we fail to recognize and be thankful for the things we do have. Instead, we focus on our desires, wants, and perceived needs. Isolationist attitude with our closed-off homes with automatic garage door openers and outside back decks hidden behind privacy fencing. Does any of
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Will wasn’t the most active kid in the neighborhood. Honestly, exercise wasn’t his thing. The only kind of outside activity he did, reluctantly at that, was riding his bike. Riding around the neighborhood was a freeing activity, not exercise, at least not in Will’s book. Josh, on the other hand, was an active kid. Watching
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“What do you mean it’s all gone?” “Exactly what I said. It’s gone. All of it.” Gary was a tall man compared to the rest of the research team. He stuck his hands deep into the pockets of a white lab coat, jingling his keys. “You’re sure?” His friend and coworker nodded.
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Laying on the grass, both boys stared into the pale blue sky. “Will? Are you there?” Josh’s voice sounded like he was speaking through water or maybe jello. That feeling you get from water being stuck in your ears? That’s what Josh was experiencing. There was something unnatural about the loss of his hearing. He
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Rocking in the gliding chair made him think about the time before kindness left the world. “Do you remember what it was like? I mean, before hatred came on stronger than love? When did love become an outlawed emotion?” “Sid, you’ve been sitting in the same chair, rocking in the same way, before I
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He stood on the other side of the bar, mixing a drink for one of the other patrons sitting beside me. “How’s your night going,” he asked, rubbing a lemon wedge over the rim of the glass. On the left side of his t-shirt was a surf logo, one I didn’t recognize. The back of
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“No finesse whatsoever. Park wherever you want to, huh? Is that how you think driving works?” Their windows were rolled down, so you heard every word he spat at her. His hat was on backward, the brim touching his neck. Several tattoos were visible on his face, a few on both arms, and, as expected,
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Suzie slid into the booth, catching her dress on the edge of her heel. The fabric tore before she freed it from her heel. “Crap!” The hole wasn’t all that big, nor was it noticeable, except to her. The black dress matched the rest of her outfit, and the spot was nothing more than an
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“This place is the coolest!” Josh shouted, his voice echoing off the concrete flooring. Scattered throughout the empty space were discarded pallets. Will assumed these were discarded as the business closed its doors. Helping Hands may have owned the building, holding the lease for several companies that utilized the space in the warehouse. At one
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“You sure we aren’t going to get into trouble, Josh? I mean, nothing about this seems okay.” Both boys were straddling their bikes, the toes of their tennis shoes touching the ground. Neither boy realized how far they rode. It was almost six miles to their houses. Josh and Will lived across the street from
Stories. Enjoy!
5 Minute Observations 