I wrote this in 1991 when I was about 17. I have resisted any temptation to "improve" it. It’s a short poetic story recounting a real event in my life where I realized that I’m just not a killer.

Two boys befriend each other and have mischievous times.

A first person short story where a boy feels his first homosexual experience and tells of the first and last time he ever fell in love, with his best friend Scott, before his accidental death.

A short piece on a beautiful sight.

In America, before the advent of political correctness, there was a code that defined courage and honor. It established the relationship between the sexes and gave order to the world. Some believe that it made one of them less important than the other. Maybe they just don’t understand.

A short story taken from my childhood memories.