Persistence Stories

This is not my story, it’s Chrissy’s story, and you’ll understand why she’s not telling it in a while. And it’s a true story, though I’ve changed the names and places for obvious reasons. The beginning of the end happened when my wife and I drove, frantically, along NY-68 south from Canton in upstate New York, near the Canadian border, looking for Chrissy. We actually drove right past her, then Jenny called out and made m...

This musing only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Sometimes I feel that the world is a graceless place. Well, alright, I always feel that. For me, every day is a task that I cannot look forward to. But there is no way to rearrange my knickers drawer in procrastination of meeting the morning (or afternoon, on my days off), and I am lacking the ability to pull a sickie and tell...