Tag: Writing

  • Tony – The Tow Truck Driver

    “Tony, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, you can’t come in here dressed like that,” Margie said, a cigarette hanging from her lipstick-painted red lips. In her right hand, she held a carafe of burned black coffee. In the other, a breakfast plate: three pancakes, two pieces of thick linked…

  • The New Kid

    Hermes. I know. I laughed when I first heard his name, too. I couldn’t help it, but there it was, my laughter out in front of the classroom. He was a scrawny guy with curly, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. From the back, it was easy to mistake him for a girl. My friends…

  • You’re Offended by That?

    “You’re offended by that?” Shelby screamed at Angela. The two best friends were having coffee at the local Starbucks. It wasn’t unusual for the friends to talk about subjects varying from abortion to religion. Even political ideologies were a part of their dialogues. For some reason, all rational thought left Shelby. There was no reason…

  • Reporter vs. Storyteller

    When I tell someone I’m a storyteller, they automatically reply, “Oh. You’re a reporter.” “Uh, no. I tell stories.” “How is that different?” A reporter relays the facts relevant to the current situation, focusing on having every fact relevant and accurate to the event while maintaining objectivity through words, video, or an online report. A…

  • Andy’s Close Call

    High school. Acid-washed jeans. Polo shirts, more specifically, Ralph Loren. Bright, loud colors. Mini-skirts. Teased-out hair, if long enough, coated with enough Aquanet to freeze it permanently in place. Jelly shoes, no socks. The Don Johnson Miami Vice look. And more than enough drama to write four seasons of Saved By the Bell or 90210.…

  • Amber’s Observation (Sisters – Part III)

    “And how do you know that?” Amber asked. “Do you have a picture?” “No. But Bud’s not a cowboy, farmer, or rancher,” she said, putting a finger down for each one of the things Amy liked that Jamie didn’t. “He didn’t wear cowboy boots.” Another finger down. “Bud didn’t own a massive rodeo belt buckle.”…

  • What’s His Name? (Sisters – Part II)

    “I’m so happy for you, Amy! When do we get to meet him?” “I don’t know. Bud travels for work, so he’s not around much.” Amy continued to play with the grass, imagining it was Bud’s hair. “But he’s coming home for a few days, so maybe we can get together then?” “I’m a maybe,…

  • Sisters

    She wasn’t expecting to walk more than a quarter-mile uphill from where she parked her car on the gravel road next to a Volkswagen and beat-up Chevy truck. Jamie was too far from the city to get a signal on her cell phone. Lucky for her, the gravel road was the only one out this…

  • Paying Attention

    “Squirrel!” Her shout took me aback for a split second because, like most of the things she does, this was uncharacteristically within her character. Her glasses teetered on the edge of her nose, face reddened from the abrupt scream. She followed up her exclamation with a few puppy-like barks. “Holy crab apples, Jules!” I screamed.…

  • Mastering Storytelling

    Like it or not, people born on this planet have a narrative. Everyone wants to talk. Some about an event. For others, it’s a task they finished or a budding relationship. Or maybe they just ended their marriage. Whatever it is, you will find someone ready to tell you all about it! And what is…

  • Incident at the Walgreens

    I’m standing in line getting my morning coffee, and I see her. It was the same woman I saw a few minutes ago at Walgreens. A young woman stood behind the counter looking bored, chewing her gum and clicking her manicured nails on her left hand. Her right hand scanned one item at a time,…

  • Cauble’s Interview

    “No, I don’t know her name, and honestly, I could care less to know who she is. Wait. Did you hear that?” Cauble’s ears perk up, losing all attention to me. Then, without hesitation, her eyes zero in on me, Gregory Tremaine, interviewer of all pets. How did I get this gig? You may be…

  • What Happened? Sleepwalking. Again.

    I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes. Yes. You are at home. You are in your bed. Cauble is purring, rubbing her face in mine. Guess she’s hungry. Blinking a few more times before stretching, I felt stiff. Every muscle hurt, like I finished a high-impact aerobic workout. I rubbed my eyes again,…

  • Why Storytelling?

    Sitting back in the corner of the café gives you an exciting vantage point to see most interactions between the staff standing on the other side of the register and the patron purchasing coffee, a muffin, or some other food or drink item. There is the yoga mom with a wealthy doctor for a husband…

  • The Day Before Cookie Gets Fired

    Kathy hated the day-to-day business side of the diner. She looked into hiring a full-time bookkeeper and business manager on more than one occasion. But after looking at the books recognized that wasn’t an expense Janice’s Diner could afford. There were more important things she needed to worry about. The least of which was the…

  • Donovan’s Broken Heart

    “It’s over now.” She leaned back in the wooden chair at the café, having explained to her boyfriend of almost six years that she was moving on. No. He didn’t do anything wrong, per se. Did he do anything right? Other than never asking for her hand in marriage? No. Not at all. But then…

  • Carded For Cookies

    Grandpa is a great guy, but he’s got this thing about Oreo cookies. He can’t get enough of them. Before we knew what an obsession was or a sugar addiction, there was what Grandpa called his sweet tooth. And every few days, when Mom, Dad, and my sister, Sarah, visited his condo on the shore…

  • Floyd Patterson Comes Home: Part III

    Kathy finished her cry, knowing it had been a minute since she checked on Floyd. “I need to check on Floyd,” she said, getting up from the crates. “I’ll go check on him,” Cookie said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Just needs coffee, right? Kinda like Jim? Drinks coffee all day long?” He touched…

  • Floyd Patterson Comes Home: Part II

    Cookie was sitting on a few upside-down milk crates, jumping up as soon as Kathy opened the swinging door. Tears streamed down her cheeks, smearing her eyeliner and foundation. No sound came from Kathy, her hand pressed tightly over her lips. The older man knew best to leave well enough alone, especially when it came…

  • Floyd Patterson Comes Home

    “Who’re you callin’ old, you old coot.” Floyd Patterson leaned back in the booth, sipping his coffee. He hadn’t touched it in the last hour, until now. Sipping his lukewarm coffee, he looked outside the diner’s filmy window, wondering what had happened to the bacon, eggs, and pancakes he ordered. “Kath, this coffee is lukewarm.”…