Stop, Squat, and Run

I looked at Tenant A with my jaw about touching the floor and she said, “…and it’s still lying out front because I wanted you to see it.

Where I work, the term “Juicy” is most often used to describe gossip.  The kind of gossip that will ruffle feathers and has the potential to start a war.

On one such occasion, I received a phone call from a tenant that usually keeps to herself and tries to avoid problems.  She let me know that for the past week, the person that lived across the road from her was spreading rumors implicating a lot of the community of conspiring against her.  She called to let me know that if that person came to me talking about everyone else that I shouldn’t believe everything that she says.  We will call the person calling Tenant A, and the person causing problems Tenant B.

At this point, I was not fully sure of what was going on but I knew that as time went by I would hear the whole story.

Just then, the phone rang again for me.  It was Tenant B calling to speak with me.  I answered the phone and sure enough, she called to let me in on the “Juicy” events that were taking place around the community.

Tenant B let me know that Tenant A, along with Tenant C and Tenant D, were talking about her while they drank tea and coffee every morning on Tenant A’s front porch.  She let me know that she could hear them whisper about her.  She also let me know that she had spoken to a few other tenants and they verified that those 3 were saying that she was abusing prescriptions and that she was not healthy.  This infuriated her and she wanted me to step in.

I scratched my head and let her know that these were unsubstantiated rumors.  I let her know that she should just ignore them, ignore the supposed comments, and move on with her life.

She didn’t like my response very much.  She told me that it was on my head what happened next because she was not going to put up with it.  She hung up and I heard nothing else from her.

A few days past and Tenant A called to speak with me.  She told me that ever since the commotion in the community started a few weeks ago she decided to install a camera facing her front porch.  She spoke with the local law enforcement and they assured her that just so long as no other front doors were being video taped it was legal.  She asked me to come by her home today and watch some footage.  She warned me – before I entered her yard to watch my step.

I showed up and we began to watch the footage from the night before.  It was about 3:30 am on the video and into the frame walks a figure to the yard of Tenant A.  The footage shows this person or individual pulling down their pants, squatting down, and doing their business on the front lawn.  They swiftly pull up their trousers and run away.  In what direction?  Straight across the street.  Its hard to tell the face or any descriptive details from the dark video but the deed that they did do was unmistakable.  I looked at Tenant A with my jaw about touching the floor and she said, “…and it’s still lying out front because I wanted you to see it.  I told you this was a juicy one.”

Source: Juicy

I will always remember Coach Almonds class…

I remember that I was in the Seventh Grade.  I was in Social Studies with my best friend, Jason B.  We had Coach Almond in that class which meant a lot of fun and jokes!  It was a great way to start off your day; we loved first period.

On that day, we were studying for a quiz in groups.  Naturally, this meant that Jason and I were our own group and we were talking and laughing about everything else but the quiz.  

In comes Mr. Marshall, the principle.  “Hey!  Have you heard what’s going on?”

The smile on Coach Almonds face lost its perk.  “No… What’s up?”  

“Does this TV work?” Replied Marshall.  He plugged it into the wall and started to scan for channels.  In a matter of seconds, there it was.  It was the image of two large buildings; somewhere in a big city, and one was on fire.  I could tell there was fire because of all of the smoke emanating from its side.  

“It’s all over the news.  It was an airplane.”  Marshall motioned for Coach Almond to get nearer.  “We are going to go about our day as normal.  When we figure things out, we can answer questions.  Sad part is that when they get home that’s all they are going to hear; about the attacks.”

One girl on the other side of the room started to cry.  She asked what that was and why did it happened. 

Coach Almond looked at all of us and said, “Don’t worry kiddos, everything is fine here at home.  But somewhere real close someone is going to need your prayers.  Those of you and your family.”

Justin spoke up and said, “But what’s going on?  We don’t even know what’s going on.”

Coach Almond turned around and turned off the TV.  “Soon, you will.  The whole world will.  And it will change everything.”

My remembrance of September 11, 2001, is specific.  I was too young and too involved in my own things to appreciate it back then, but I know now that many had to give their lives to save lives.  Men and women that put others first, and gave their all to help.  Those are the people that we respect and that we miss.  We will always be Stumped as to how they got in and who’s fault was it that they were successful at causing us pain.  But now that’s a waste of time.  Instead let us remember those that didn’t hesitate to act, at a seconds notice, when push really turned to shove.

We love you all.  We needed you and you were there.  We need you still but understand the determination you had to save others.  

You can read the names of those that were present here.

Chapter 2 : It Doesn’t Pay To Cheat

“Hand me that screwdriver! Quick!”

James’ fingers were freezing. He could see the tools on the street near the left rear tire of the truck, but his fingers could not feel them. The street light was not enough against the shadows of the night. James blew hot breath into his left hand before reaching down to the chilling ground to pick up the screwdriver. His hoodie kept creeping over his eyes, and he kept having to adjust it back. He quickly handed the tool to Kevin who was busy picking at the door lock. The job of look-out is James’. He looked up the street just in time to see the stop light change to green. A man on a bicycle went across the intersection but did not notice the want-to-be thieves. His head swung around in the opposite direction to a lonesome residential street. Only a few scattered leaves danced along the road in the winter wind.

The dogs across the street at an old Victorian home kept barking in their direction. He prayed they would stop. The sound made James’ blood race and his hands quiver. It put him on edge. He hated that feeling. The feeling he got when the nerves in his muscles were set to sprint. His left knee was beginning to hurt so he swiftly changed the knee he was pressing against the frozen pavement. The smell of rust and grime emanated from the space in between the truck tire and the chassis.

“Is this going to work? Have you done this before? What is is taking you so long?” asked James shivering in the winter breeze.

“Hey, don’t chicken out on me! This score is going to be big. Look at this ride! Are you kidding me? We pull this off, and we are the guys to beat around here. Sometimes you gotta cut corners kid,” replied Kevin between the chatter and clicking of this teeth.

James’ mother had always told him that it didn’t pay to cheat. “What if the alarm goes off when you open it?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just be ready to hit the streets.”

James assumed his role as the look-out and turned around to rest his body against the truck. With Kevin at his back, the breeze hit his cheeks hard. He could feel the cracking of his skin. It felt like multiple paper cuts across his lips with every howl of the wind. He adjusted his oversized hoody back again away from this vision. A car in the distance turned in their direction. It approached at a creeping pace, but it was not long until the boys were right in the head lights. James’ heart leaped as the lights atop the vehicle became clearer in the night. The cops. “Oh God! We have got to go! Let’s get out of here!”

Kevin was startled by the booming of the siren and the red and blue lights that pushed the darkness from around them. He ran into James on his way away from the truck towards the intersection at the opposite end.

In a full stride, the oversized hoodie corrupted James’ steps. He never hated that ugly old thing more than tonight. He knew that running into a busy intersection would not be the best thing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an opened fence to the right. With no hesitation, he cut in that direction stomping his feet against the ground as hard as he could. He ran past the gate and meant to close the door, but it was out of his reach. He almost lost his footing as the grass turned to gravel near a window with light shining through it. He turned a corner and pressed his back against the wall with the hope that the patrol had chased after Kevin.

He waited a few seconds. He could not see as the strong lights of the patrol car had had their effect. He couldn’t hear anything over his shallow, cumbersome and uncontrollable breathes. He had to calm down. He wanted to reach over and lean on his knees to rest, but fear kept him rigid. He was glued in place with his spine against the back porch of the home. He stared at the 6-foot wooden fence across the yard he would be forced to jump next. His breathing calmed although the vapor spewed from his mouth in the wintertime air. He heard the gate squeak.

“Dispatch…. Foot pursuit in progress east of 42nd. 3 or 4 blocks from Wilshire Street. Over.” James struggled to find air. The snapping of the leaves and the brushing of the grass let James know they were walking cautiously. A bright light shone and first scanned the area across the fence right in front of James.

In desperation and recognizing that the footsteps were getting closer, James pushed off of the wooden porch and made for the fence in front of him. He could hear a sound behind him, a voice. The boy was not worried about making out the words of that voice. All he needed to do was jump. All his legs needed to do was forget the cold. Forget the pin needles of the dreary air of that night and lift his body up and over the wooden boards. He could see his silhouette formed by the giant light behind him on the fence. The voice kept getting louder and soon James felt someone else’s footsteps almost match his own.

As he approached the fence, it seemed to grow taller. He would need to curl his fingers over the edge. His left foot raised into the air to lead the hop, but his right foot shifted underneath him. Instead of rising in the air, he was falling. He was about a foot from the fence, and he tucked his right shoulder downward to absorb the impact. He felt a pain and heard a crunch as his body met the cold floor. His face was in the dirt, and his exhausted breathing threw dust into his eyes. Within moments a pair of cold hands wrapped him up. They forced his right cheek closer still to the ground and held his arms behind his back. Their pulling and tugging sent pain through his chest and left shoulder. He would not move again. He was tired. He had been beaten. It was over.

Source: Cheat

Mistakes – They’re Important

Skeletons are ugly; they are old and dusty for a reason.  Amazingly enough, it’s these mistakes that allow us to either Wither or Thrive.  If you didn’t trip up in your step once in a while, you wouldn’t stop to appreciate whatever path you were on.  Those important Forks in the road would fly by and you would almost miss them.  And you don’t want to miss anything in this life; you don’t want to take things for granted.  

This post is probably one of the most difficult for me to post.  It’s a few ideas I had jotted down from about 5 years ago; a time in life where I was not proud of myself, where I was not convinced that I knew what I was doing, where I messed up.  God only knows why I was given another opportunity; that golden gem of a moment to correct my wrongs and make amends.  A chance to use the rest of my life to prove that I could cherish and love the way it’s supposed to be.  At any rate, I hate to remember, but it was so essential in what I consider my own, personal, rude awakening.  

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

….My last post about me being in the Barber shop was a ruse…… It was my feeble attempt to get back into the habit of blogging without making the last 4 months of my life known. I came to a realization today….. That is impossible. The past does not have to define you as a person. Just because I was a grumpy old man yesterday doesn’t mean that I am a grumpy old man today. Its not fair to judge people by their pasts because in most cases there is always the ugly. Those portions of our lives where we were someone we promised never to be. The times when we made decisions we swore never to make. No matter how messed up the past has been for us, we dont have to be that again tomorrow. The dark and stormy cloud lingers over our heads nonetheless in the eyes of those that surround us. The past does not necessarily define who we are today, but it does give an idea about who you should be. The idea is that you have learned from your mistakes and have changed for the better…  As far as for me? This is what I realize now…

I’m a liar. I have deceived those that cared most about me. I have turned my back on principles and values that I held so near and dear to my heart my entire life. I didnt care that people would cry or cringe. I didnt care that people that loved me would suffer and feel betrayed. I am selfish and egotistical. I pretended to be someone that I was not; even though the task of being that person was exhausting and excruciatingly taxing on my psyche. I was reckless and stupid. That simple…
I mentioned a beautiful person that was in my life and had been a part of my life for a long time. We had plans of getting married very soon. Her smile lit up the world for me and I was glad and privileged to be in her company whenever I could. We laughed together but most importantly went through many hardships hand-in-hand. She supported me like no one else in this life had been able to. Not my parents or extended family came close to the pillar that this women was in my life…. I threw that away.
The circumstances are complicated and lengthy. Trust me, I do not say that in order to avoid scrutiny and judgement that is inevitable when you reveal yourself over the INTERWEB. I dont need it. What I mean is that I am not a man looking to be convinced of my wrong doing and malice. Ive accepted that. Im there. Where ever “there” is in reference to guilt and shame…..Ive been here for a long time now. It happened at my job that I posted about sometime in September or August. I was hired and trained with a few people who I was with all day long for about 2 months straight. Needless to say, I grew close to someone and well things went down hill from there. 

What baffles me to this date is how I didnt hesitate…  At the beginning I knew what I was feeling was wrong and not healthy and I fought it; I did. I put it aside day by day and remembered that I was supposed to be a man of integrity. I was supposed to know what being loyal and faithful was. I was supposed to be an example of what was right and have the courage and strength to avoid the wrong. Therein lies my problem. I tried to reason and fight with myself but I was too weak to say “No”. I should not have tried to do it alone. It didnt matter who I went to for help with the dilemma…anyone would have done the job. Instead I kept the struggle internal and no matter how many sessions of introspection I underwent; the outcome was the same. I doubted that I was going to be able to handle this like I should. The feelings grew stronger and I started to give in. I began to slowly lose interest in that wonderful partner of mine and my attention swayed in another direction. I began to ignore the life I had always known and a curiosity was born for the life I had never lived. This new life or person wasnt more beneficial for me than what I had. That is the amazing detail. If I had given up on my old life for a new and improved one then the mystery as to why I did it would be solved. Case closed, dilemma resolved. That is not the case unfortunately. What I did, I did because I am a guy. I made the mistake I made because I didnt think with my head or listen to my heart. I was selfish and didnt see the long list of priorities that were right in front of my eyes. I ignored them even though they remained the only constant at that time and I was reminded of them constantly by the Word and those that loved me. They saw me struggling but I didnt let them in. I shut the world out of my life and only kept this new person around thinking it would be enough and I could go on and never look back. Wrong again…… I hope you are getting the reoccurring theme here friends. I was wrong and I lost everything. That new person was only around for a little while and I was desolate. Alone. Being alone doesnt scare me because even if there are no other organisms, to be literal, around you at any given moment, your humanity, principles, values and beliefs keep you warm. The fact that you give your all to being a good person who looks for God when no one else does fills those voids that can arise when your “alone”. But now imagine my state after realizing that I had betrayed my sense or definition of humanity and decency; that I was not able to stay true to my principles, values and beliefs…….. Now add that I was physically alone. I was in small dark room with only a match stick….. And I wasnt sure of when the match was going to burn out…


Source: Mistake

Only “you” can get in the way of you

Source: Jeopardize

There was a knock at the solid cherry door of the office.

Dr. Folis shifted in his chair and threw the file he held on the desk in front of him.  “Come on in,” he shouted as he removed the glasses from his eyes.  “Have a seat.”

Mark Pendel closed the heavy door behind him and slowly walked towards Dr. Folis.  He looked like a judge sitting behind that thing.  He could feel the judgmental stare look him up and down.  It’s that stare that he predicted from the start.  It’s why he was decided to make this difficult for the professor.  The chair was old and creaky but he didn’t mind.  He wouldn’t be there long. 

“How you doing Mark?” Said Folis with a grin.  He expected resistance.

“Hanging in there.  Trying to stay busy but I always seem to get stuck in awkward meetings.”  Mark pushed his book bag from in front of his legs and reached for a mint on the desk.

“Sure, have two.  I insist,” the sarcasm in Folis’ voice fed into Mark’s objective.  He didn’t think it would be that easy.

“I’ve really got to run soon Professor.  Can we cut to the chase.  Last I remember, you told me to show up here if I wanted to  get out of jeopardy,” chuckled Mark as he threw the mint in his mouth.

“That’s what I don’t understand about you, Mark.  You talk about your future like if you don’t want it.  Why is that?  You have the grades but you lack the attitude.”  The frustration in Folis’ voice wiped the smirk off of Mark’s face.  He felt compelled to look down at his already twiddling thumbs.

“What do you want from me?  Do they pay you to be here until 10 p.m. Convincing kids to do what they don’t want to do?”

Folis straightened up in his chair and leaned forward.  “You think that this is what this is?  My attempt at over-time?  Mark, this comes down to the same thing that I have been repeating all semester.  You are running out of time.  I check with Stacy at the front office every day for that application and you know what she says every time?  NOPE, NOTHING HERE,”  he caught himself.  He had shown his frustration and anger.  He sighed and sat back in his chair.  “None of this is your fault Mark.”

“No, no, no, no!” Exclaimed Mark.  “Spare me the lecture.  For all I care, you can put that soap box back under your desk where it came from.”

“What do you think your mom would have wanted Mark?  Don’t you consider what she would have wanted for you?  Don’t just do this for the so-called success that it might bring you.  Do this as something that will make her proud.  Because it will.  She’s passed away but only dead if you let everything she taught you go straight into the trash can.  I know it has not been easy but this is part of the peace after the storm.  Fine, don’t do this for you.  Do it for her too,” Folis looked away for just a second.  Just enough time to choke back the emotion that was filling the room.  “Just take this home and think it through.  Just think it through one more time is all that I ask.”

Mark held a solemn look on his face; of hardness.  Of meditation within without the obvious expression of defeat.  He didn’t respond; he was worried that this too would be a sign of collapse.  The Professor had thrown a bundle of papers on the desk in front of him.  An Application.  

“Your free to go, I just want to help but I can’t do it for you.  I see your dilemma, Mark.  This is not the answer to it all but it is the right path.  Take the exam and go for what you have wanted in life.  If you don’t take the exam then you won’t have a chance at Law school.  Look if your plans have changed then that is great.  I just want to know that there is a plan so that I can find a way to help you.  Everyone wants to help you.  So only You can get in the way now.”

Mark grabbed his bag and exited the office swiftly.  Dr. Folis peered through the office window and contemplated failure.  His hope for that boy was quickly fading.  A moment later he heard footsteps in the hall and the door shriek open.  Mark walked in and straight over to the desk.  He took the application from the desk and turned around.

“Thank you…Uncle.” Mark looked over his shoulder before walking out.  The solid cherry door sealed with a thud after him.

One Glass of Milk….

One day, a young man stumbled down a neighborhood street.  He was exhausted from working in the sun all day and could barely keep his legs under him.  Sweat soaked his T-shirt and his nose was charred pink from the sun’s rays.  He came to a small house that had a white picket fence that he used to lean on and rest.  His leaned his back against one of the corner posts and slid down it slowly as he wiped the sweat from his eyes.  He could walk no further; he would sit and wait.  All the while, various people walked around him and stepped over his out stretched legs.  No body looked down; no one was interested.

From behind him came a voice, small and fragile.  “Would you like a glass of milk, young man?”

He slowly turned his head towards the house and peered through the fence.  An aged women was at the door of the home.  Her smile was inviting and inspired the energy enough to slowly get back up on his feet.  He zig zagged his way to the door of the gate and fumbled around until he managed to open it.  He made his way up the steps to the door where the aged women waited patiently for him.

“Enjoy.  You look like you could use it.”  She handed the man a glass of milk and 2 pieces of toast.  “You look the same build as my son.  He is off to college now so he won’t mind if I were to lend you some of his old clothes.”

She returned with a dry pair of clothes and motioned for the man to come inside her home.  The man gulped down the last of the milk, threw some bread into his mouth and spun around to head through the door.

“Take your time,” said the aged women as she closed the door to the restroom.  The man quickly undid his clothes and threw on the clean and brightly fragranced garments.  He opened the door to the restroom and took a few steps towards the exit.

“Thank you for visiting and if you are ever in the area again, don’t hesitate to come on by.  Take care of yourself no matter what type of work you do.  You were made for more than work, you know,” nodded the aged women.

“Thank you,” replied the man as he closed the door behind him to the small home with a white picket fence.

Many years went by and the aged women no longer served milk and toast from the small house with the white picket fence.  She had passed and her daughter, along with a husband and children, enjoyed the home.

One summer morning, humid and hot, the daughter worked to restore the aged women’s garden.  As she toiled with the hard earth a pain struck her head, her vision blurred, and she fell back.

“She is not waking up,” whispered one of the nurses.  “She is not responding.  The tests indicate an aneurysm which requires an extensive and expensive surgery.  Keep faith.  That is all you can do.”  The husband squeezed his wife’s hand and wiped the tears from his cheeks.  He sat next to her bed and just listened as the machines breathed and beeped.

The next morning, a team of nurses burst into the room.  The husband still had his wive’s hand in his and his head had rested at her bedside all night.

“What is happening?!” he shrieked.

“The Doctor ordered that we prepare your wife for surgery immediately, sir,” replied a nurse.  “She will be prepped and in surgery within a few minutes.”

“I don’t understand.  The surgery…. It is too expensive….will she survive?” mumbled the husband.

“Her Doctor is the best in the hospital, sir.  I would have faith.  Thats all you can do.” The nurses rolled his wife away down the long and cold corridor.

Hours had passed and he had not heard anything from the surgery.  He had tried to get someone to help him with information and everyone just said, “I’ll look into that for you.  Please have a seat.”

The elevator rang then it’s doors opened.  Out stepped a man in scrubs who still had a face mask on.

“Are you the husband of the women with an aneurysm?” asked the man.

“Yes. I am.  Who are you?” demanded the husband.

“I am the surgeon that operated on her.  The surgery was a success.  Your wife will be in a room recovering and I expect we can have her back soon.”  The Doctor reached a hand up towards the husbands shoulder when all of a sudden the husband took him in his arms.  He about lifted him off of the ground.  The husband weeped and laughed and wouldn’t let go.

“How could this happen?  Why did you do it?  I don’t understand.  I had already spoken to the hospital and they knew that I could never afford this,” yelled the man in excitement.

The Doctor folded the small mask into a square and stuck it in his pocket.

“Last night, while I was walking out of the hospital to end my day, I noticed you asleep holding your wife’s hand.  I came to the door and noticed that next to her bed, on the table, was a small picture frame.  I took a few steps closer and recognized the small house and the white picket fence in the photograph.  When I picked up the picture I recognized the aged women standing with you and your family in the door way.  Who is that aged women and where is she now?” asked the Doctor.

“That aged women is my mother-in-law and it has been many years since she has passed,” replied the husband.

“When your wife wakes up tell her that many years ago, her mother paid for her surgery and for her health with one glass of milk…”

~Old Adage

The Light Does So Much

There’s one plant in my house. It’s in a corner of the living room sitting under a medium size lamp with a dark brown shade. When the lamp is off, the bright green leaves are not so bright.

 

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There’s one plant in my house.  It’s in a corner of the living room sitting under a medium size lamp with a dark brown shade.  When the lamp is off, the bright green leaves are not so bright.  The heavy curtains covering the window on the opposite side of the room allow only a small amount of sunlight to reach the plant.  It’s hidden away like that.  The leaves drape downward, the bark seems bare and uninteresting.

 

light-shining-through-window

Then you open up the curtains and pull up the blinds.  A rush of light envelopes the plant and the details to its character start to come through.  IMG_2268aLike the fact that on the under-side of each leaf there are veins of different shades of green that zig zag across it.  The bark of the plant tells a more interesting story.  It’s marred by its experience in nature; in the world.  Chipped by the wind and gnawed by wild life.  Albeit, the bark is strong and exudes presence; perseverance.

In the light, it’s not as short.  The plant jumps up at your eyes almost like a child waving it’s hands in the air.  It compliments the room.  Although different furniture and accessories adorn the walls, the plant is the only living, breathing thing.  It’s the only one with freedom because it’s the only thing that can grow.  While wear and tear will deteriorate everything around it, it will become more valuable with time.  It will develop and continue to breath.

Be the plant.  Don’t be afraid of the light.  You look great in it.fe iStock_000049038206_Medium

History

“People are stuck in history and history is stuck in people.”black and white

I read this quote today sometime during the work day and it stuck with me.  History is such an important aspect to the revolution of Society, The Atomic Family, and The World.  It starts ugly; real ugly and disorganized.  Chaotic at times and inhumane.  The expectation is that with time, we will evolve away from counter-productive attitudes and behaviors.  But you stop and wonder of where we would be had our history been any different?  How much would we have advanced?  How much would we have digressed?  History makes us who we are but doesn’t have to dictate what we become right?  This is the conundrum that this quote brings to light.

Racism and ignorance are symptoms that you are stuck in history.  When you are so stuck in between the lines of the box you call life, you don’t move forward.  You can’t move. You can’t move because history is heavy on our soul.  It’s like having to carry bricks in your pockets and on your back day after day.  Sad thing about this is that it’s like the bricks are invisible.  We feel like our lives are difficult and full of troubles and we associate our sadness, depression, cynicism, hate, or even love with these troubles.  That’s not what it is. It’s history.  It’s how we wrap our arms around history – the past.  The comfort of knowing what to expect or following through with advice given to us.  Our mind set needs a change.  It needs a refurbishing.  As much as we are stuck in history, history is stuck in us.  We can let go though if need to and learn from it instead of being driven by it.

It’s the age old question of why we continue to make the same mistakes of our fathers.  Why?  Addictions, mistresses, blindfolds; mistakes and chains that our fathers could not get rid of.  Addiction to money or possessions.  Money as our mistress.  The blindfold of an egotistical mindset or self indulgence.  Alcohol and drugs kill the body with time but it’s these that kill the spirit, soul, family, home.  They leave you dry, inanimate, fruitless, and stuck years before this physical form will die.  It makes living hard, and living with you even worse.

It’s a cycle that we have to break.  A cycle that is individual and that repeats whether you like or not.

World, meet the short story “What He Gave Me.” Short story, meet The World.

So in accordance with one of my last post, I am trying to do what I can to get my writing, if you will, going.  I had started a short story some time with a premise that can be justified with a few chapters.  I fell upon Wattpad not too long ago and felt that this would be the correct community to introduce this story with.  The feedback will be what I need as they are a community of writers and many of them experienced, which is what I lack.

So here is the link to story that I published on Wattpad.  Its a great site and has a great layout that allows you to interact with beginning writers to seasoned, publish vets alike.  If you have a knack for writing or really want to develop your skill, I would suggest you check it out.  My primary goal or focus is not going to be to write a book per say.  I do have an idea that I think can work, so Im going to take a stab at it.  My attention is going to be on this blog.  Everyday and everywhere we go there is something to learn from.  Life’s purpose is all around us.  God speaks to us through his creation and his Word.  This blog will be a way of me sharing what observations are made.

If you are kind enough to take a second out of your day and visit my story, I appreciate a like and a comment.  Im not used to doing to this kind of propaganda work, so excuse me if Im forward.  Ill be working on that too.  Its very rough draft that jumps perspectives alots – this will be revised with time.

Enjoy.  Fill your day with questions.  Questions about why we do what we do and how.  Then…… Do it different.  Do it BETTER.

http://www.wattpad.com/story/33173774-what-he-gave-me