Nell The knock was soft, but made us both jump nonetheless. “Don’t get it,” Jamie whispered in my ear, “Whoever it is will go away.” Ignoring him, I climbed to my feet and straightened my skirts. “If you’ve come with gifts or flowers, you’re supposed to leave them at the stage door...” I trailed off. A pair of sparkling gold and diamond buckles adorned shining black shoes. A cloak of velvet hung in ripples across his shou...

Penny tore open the card that she had already made out to Ian and added some more lines to the ones she had already penned. She then selected a fresh envelope and addressed to him and placed it in the stack she would drop off at the drive up post office on her way to work. Three Days Ago: Ian arrived at his current residence and spent a moment in his car admiring the Christmas lights and decorations he had put up. It wasn...

When I was young, I spent a lot of time in the back seat of my cousin's car alone. She had a boyfriend, but he did not drive and she never liked to drive alone. As a result, I went on many dates with my cousin and her boyfriend. She was five years older than I was and I was her favorite cousin. At the time, I was having fun going out to the drive-in, bowling and other places. I never realized what a third wheel was until...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.You see my writing on the wallAnd you think you know who I am.Am I splayed out naked for all to see,Or can the breeze-blown reeds only glimpseThe surface where the chaff isDrifting and floating onto the mill race,Only to be lost in the tail past the grinding wheel,Never use nor grace to any bread?For there,In the shallows where...

The Eucalyptus trees in California. Living in Northern California is a nice thing most of the time. It seems to be a very different state when compared to Southern California and the Sacramento area. People here live a laid-back life and are more liberal. One thing that used to upset me when I first lived here in 1967 was the plethora of Eucalyptus trees. They smell nice and are tall, but the sap, leaves and bark are a nu...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Hand against the cold glass,Condensation runs like tearsDown the outside of my leaden heart.The past is a thunderOf regrets rolling through my time and space,Where blunt winds of despairBuffet against the rocksThat my childhood was smashed upon.These rains cannot growBeauty from the mire,Nor tempests scour the dirt away.The dawn...

My first exposure to the wonders of television was shortly after the Second World War when a hardware store up the street put one in their front window. They turned it on when programming started which was, depending on the channel, sometime in the afternoon. They then left it on until the following morning when they shut it off to allow the vacuum tubes to cool. It was the first one in our small town and a great draw, es...

I want to close my eyes Clench them tight to stop the Spill of salt water that aches to rush And fill this hollow void inside of me. The world shifts sideways Life revolves and history repeats Over and over the insanity of it Drives me further inside myself. Where is that breath of air I need so desperately Where is that space? The sunlight fades on my yesterday and Fails to rise on my tomorrow. Were I to dance in the lon...

We have all heard of Naugahyde. It was used in upholstering custom cars in the 1960’s and 1970’s. But does anyone know where it comes from? Does it come from an animal? Where does it live? What does it eat? How is it gathered? I have wondered about these things for years. After extensive research and hunting of historical and agricultural archives I think I have pieced together the ‘Life of a Nauga’ history. Back in 1930...

Can you deal with science? Can you know what is real? Will you accept the truth? Are you lost in the past? Would you allow for doubt? Would you give up your faith? Could you let in the new? Will you ever be free? There are quests in learning. There is worth in the search. Delving the depths of life Leads to growth and to peace. Ours, the precious era, Ours, the best of all times, Ours, the life of learning, Ours, necessit...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.I amNothing.AndSomething.Something andNothingThat float in the ether,Shadows of grace on the ancient days;Patters of rain on the rocks of suffering;Bolts of blue lightning on the endless ocean;Whispers of pain in the ears of my beloved.I amSighs.AndGasps.Gasping andSighingOn the eve of Tomorrow,Bending and swaying in legends of...

1849, Gold Rush, Sutter's mill was the start of it all. From around the world, many Argonauts came to call. Heading away to discover the newest gold find.Their families, homes and businesses left behind. They scurried through the gorges and passes. Trailing along, their grub stake loaded on asses. They followed the rivers, trails and trenches. Searching all of the bars, banks and benches. Trying to find the mother lode, o...

Click. Click. Click. The high, clear clicks of heels on marble unnerved me, and it was a few moments before I recognised them as my own footsteps. Fear curled in my stomach, trussed up so tightly that I could hardly breathe. I had been forcibly laced into my mother’s wedding dress, hastily altered to fit my narrower frame. My satin heels, loaned under protest from my youngest sister, pinched my toes tighter with each step...

As the morning light dawns so does our love grow. Like the love of Romeo and Juliet. while the day moves on we meet and dance our love continues to bloom like Fred and Ginger in the meadow of flowers and if the clouds cover the sun and our love seems to grow dim I’ll stand by you till the very end like Lancelot and Guinevere throughout the war As the sun goes to bed And we share and make our love Just as Anthony and Cleop...

Overview Credible Christmas historians have long known that the North Pole was not always a child-friendly place. This was evident in the early 1950’s, when resentment over impossible Christmas Eve toy delivery schedules was intense. On February 11, 1952, the rancorous “This ain’t milk and cookies…” negotiating session took place at the North Pole. The following reconstruction of part of that session comes from personal d...