You can never be lonely, or bored, or too busy to fall in love with a book. Even if life wants to kick you in the teeth you can escape into a world where someone else is living through something worse, or something better. Books in whatever form are mankind’s greatest treasures.
Birthday Presents and Magic (Part 3)
The final chapter of how a birthday present gone wrong has turned out to be a blessing in disguise and brought a family back together. But don’t tell Ammie because you may have a large angry Sven to contend with.
Birthday Presents and Magic (Part 2)
My daughter Bill and I were spending Bring Your Child to Work Day together. And before you start scratching your head about her name and start calling me an asshole, let me explain something about Bill.
Birthday Presents and Magic (Part 1)
Ammie took it in stride, even after I told her that I sort of, kind of, a little bit, forgot to pay the house insurance last month. She’s a trooper, but of course she can afford to be all magnanimous about it when the fault lies with her and her stupid rule, but I digress. You may be thinking to yourself, big deal. Your wife is the heir-apparent to Bristol Industries., and the current V.P. of the Western branch, which happens to be the largest portion of the company’s portfolio. So replacing the kitchen, even if it means paying for it out of your own pockets should be chump change.
All Grown Up?
The other day I was shown a YouTube clip of a young girl prancing about on a stage and singing, and for some inexplicable reason, acting as if she was on a porn set. Thus my introduction to Miley Cyrus.
A Year
Mom was quite a character; she was smart, funny, loving, and creative. She taught herself to use the computer in her seventies and was thrilled that she could travel the world in the privacy and comfort of her own home. Have Google Earth, Will Travel was her motto. She had pen pals from around the planet and when she discovered Facebook she became addicted.
Three Beads (Part Four)
They arrived in Ngaliama late in the afternoon, the sun at its hottest, dust coating everything. Asya was surprised to find the village exactly the same as how she pictured it for these many years. It did not seem smaller, bigger, cleaner, or filthier; it was as if time had stood still here.
Three Beads (Part Three)
Suddenly the man slammed on the brakes and the truck fishtailed to a stop in the middle of the road. The beads flew from her hand and bounced onto the floor at her feet. Asya scrambled to her knees to retrieve them.
Three Beads (Part Two)
In the middle of the night they crept to her mother’s friend two doors away. They clung to each other for many long minutes, tears glistening in the starlight. “When I am a rich doctor in America I will come and get you,” Asya promised her mother.
Three Beads (Part One)
“She has reached that age,” her grandfather said to her mother one day. “If you do not have it done you will bring shame onto our family name.” ”Amadi and I agreed that we would not carry on that tradition; it is barbaric,” her mother replied. Then her grandfather began to shout, and Asya knew that he would carry on for a long time.
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