We all have joy in our lives at one time or another; Discover this poem today.

A poem of reflection on great times in an old convertible.

Memories lingering in the back of her head.

A little poem about life in the city at night and the nightskies.

Another tale from life in my Southern Christian family.

This missionary shits to a dimension where certain people are considered non-entities.

A short short inspired by a Lostash Picable.

Children should come with handles, instructions & volume knobs. The sudden existence of this tiny tyrant in your world that always seemed so complete before its arrival now occupies your every thought and action, thus rendering the past insignificant. Thinking you knew what love was before they were born now seems absurd and you find yourself wondering what you used to do to pass time, because that’s all you were doing before you became a parent, passing time.

This piece is a compilation of truth and fiction: I would never speed. Driving is one of the few pleasures I can still enjoy. My head injury has robbed me of many things, but I refuse to yield to it. There are times when I can fight past the injury, but it is a constant battle and one I have yet to win.

Tales of a small town historian are put to rest.