My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Goodwood Duxford tales… The sound of clicking dice echoed around the woods and open wild grass field. Absent were birdsongs and cricket chirps. No squirrels, no rabbits, no fox, nor raccoon chittering warnings to the unseen intruders. Two unsubstantial men, dressed in an odd formal suit and dirty work clothes respectively, kneeling inside a broken … Continue reading Odd man out
The storefront looked abandoned. A rusty padlock secured the entrance, and a crazy quilt of plywood was nailed to one side of the display window. The other side was coated with a thick layer of grime. Someone had written, “Wash Me,” with their finger in the dirt. A hand-painted “For Sale” sign, tucked into the … Continue reading Upwardly mobile
She lived inside her head, A snug space, comfortable but lonely. In time her solitude took up too much room. She reconsidered being a hermit, And went outside to change her mind.
Goodwood Duxford tales... A motley crew of the living and dead milled around a stone bench at the center of Gramberly Cemetery. Goodwood Duxford, the leader of the group and caretaker of the graveyard, told the gathering about the mysterious wandering ghost and the forgotten section of Gramberly. “I first encountered the spirit two weeks ago,” … Continue reading Bridge between
Goodwood Duxford tales… Papers and open books were scattered across the oak library table. Battered from years of lovers carving their initials in the surface, school kids stabbing it with frustrated pencils and pens, and boot heels scraping off varnish during long naps, its patina was still rich and deep. Goodwood Duxford and Frankie Harp … Continue reading A view of heaven
Standing in the ankle-deep weeds and brambles, Haley stared at the old store front watching the reflections of passing cars scrolling across the surprisingly intact display windows. Carefully she moved through the over-grown parking lot stepping around broken pieces of asphalt peeking through the grass. After slapping her bare arms a few times, she cursed … Continue reading Michigan Jones
Thin spiral notebook 