My journal of big words and pretty pictures
There were days when Dr. George Gleason wondered who was really running the asylum - the doctors or the inmates. Then there were days like this, when he knew it was the patients' families who were in charge. The man sitting across the desk from him looked like the typical corporate executive. He wore a … Continue reading Picture perfect
Sirens blared, sending reverberations down every tunnel, rattling doors, and threatening to shatter windows. Two shorts blasts and a single sustained squeal meant someone had gone Topside. Troops flooded the alleys in an effort to quell public panic. They were only adding to the confusion. Kennedy and Bradley sat on the worn couch in their … Continue reading Topside
Standing on the busy sidewalk, Suzy made slow turns, looking up at the tall buildings. The theme song from the Mary Tyler Moore show on continuous loop in her head, she regretting not having a felt beret to toss in the air. Suzy wasn’t a young woman, not just starting out in the business world. … Continue reading Must be present to win
Elder statesman Rep. Eugene Warrick, attending a recent function at Sheffield Manor, a local nursing home facility, was mistaken for a resident, and was detained there for two days before administrators positively identify him, and allowed him to leave. The 83-year-old Warrick, a half-century veteran legislator serving the 67th District, was the scheduled special guest … Continue reading Woolgathering
“You’re just an attention whore!” He said, sputtering with self-righteous rage. “Always on that Instabook or Facegram, tweaking.” An almost indiscernible shake of her head was underlined with an audible eye-roll and exasperated huff. “How is that any concern of yours,” she said, lifting one eyebrow quizzically. “You have no real relationships, just imaginary friends … Continue reading Sibling harmony
A pair of French doors opened onto a broad veranda that extended the full length of the house, offering an unimpeded view of the overgrown backyard. Narrow paths, worn down through knee-deep grass, wended around the outer edge of the yard along the fence row, with an occasional side path meandering deeper into the meadow. … Continue reading Master’s voice
Thin spiral notebook 