WORDS
This is where you will find short stories, personal essays, and guest posts. Family and friends and the ordinary business of life are the inspiration for this section.
Three Very Short Stories
Butter Once when I was cooking I ran out of butter so I put things on hold and told Skip who was in the coffee shop to hang for a few and I walked the long block up to Mendosas. When I passed the barber shop Mitch came out as asked where I was going in such a hurry...
The House
A house sprouts up amidst fir, redwoods, oak and a few bohemian misfits like cedar and manzanita. It speaks the language of the forest but it takes a geometric form that is alien to trees. It is autumn, the time of albacore, huckleberries and apples.“What are you?”...
The Frolic Cafe – an update
Think in the Morning is working on a new book - The Frolic Cafe. We started this project some time ago but abandoned the idea for lack of time. We are now well into the writing/editing phase. Below are several collages you may recognize. These were the featured art...
Short Fiction – The Great Divide
Let there be a little country without many people. Let them have tools that do the work of ten or a hundred, and never use them. Let them be mindful of death and disinclined to long journeys. They’d have ships and carriages, but no place to go. They’d have armor and...
Short Fiction – My Cocaine Daze
The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it. Proverbs 30:1 There have been a lot of ravens hanging around here. More than usual. If I was superstitious, I’d be...
Short Fiction – Fletcher
My dad liked to drive his tan Chevy truck on short trips away from the hotel where he lived. He owned a hotel in the magic mountains. That’s what we called the Sierras. He lived in the hotel after he divorced my mom. In the magic mountains there were bears and...
Short Fiction – If I Were Dead
Hello darkness my old friend Paul Simon It’s been several weeks since I’ve been able to communicate with anyone. No internet, no phone, no television, no radio, no TV, no newspaper, no books—nothing. Not even the chance conversation. But, you...
Short Fiction – Money Chase
When I first met Riley Gulick, little did I know that someday I’d have to chase him halfway around the world to retrieve the money he stole from me and our clients. I met Riley at an investment conference in New York. We’d both grown up in small towns and we both...
Short Fiction – Tommy’s Secret
The dump was a few miles west of town, about a half hour drive in our old truck. On Sundays we usually drove there to throw away our trash. The sour smoke from the fires that burned there irritated my eyes and the rank smell of burning garbage made me sick to my...
Short Fiction – Hi-Tech Burnout
Not with a bang but a whimper T.S. Eliot The cities were the first to go when the robots took over. “For the same reason Willie Sutton robbed banks,” said Gee Bee Tee. “You can run but you can’t hide,” came the response across the chasm. “A few of us...
Short Fiction – Lois
… of a good leader, who talks little,When his work is done, his aim fulfilled,They will all say, 'We did this ourselves.' Lao Tzu, Chapter 17 There are two types of people. Those who put their hands up in a room when they have something to...
Short Fiction – In The Clover
Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:...