Short Stories

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  We came from Across the Tracks and Between the Bridges.  Places with names like Springville, Falls Mills, Sedgewood, West Graham and Pine Hill Park.  We came from in town and out in the country and we gathered at the Double Gates.  Why?  To become men.  To become G-Men. The …

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Windswept leaves dance across the Wild Meadow Cemetery in a random swirl and suddenly all is calm.   Perhaps the end was that sudden nearly seventy-two years ago when Sergeant Mark Herman Riley breathed his last breath on a battlefield in New Guinea.    It was July 1944. Little is known of …

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Reflections of the MS Weekend Escape – Brian Mason Respite Camp at Smith Mountain Lake In the shadows of angels there is a spirit and that spirit longs to dance.  That spirit stirs restlessly within us all.  A spirit born in our childhood that ran and played free of care, …

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  It had rained earlier and the table top was still wet.  Heavy fog held the moisture and warmth in the air but it was a perfect afternoon to sit outside the café and drink my coffee.  With the extra napkins, I cleared a spot for my journal and began …

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That night had all the elements and drama of an intense stake out.  Shadows lurking in the cold darkness, dim lights flickering through branches waving in the wind, and the rustling sound of leaves scattering about the hard ground.  The subject had been spotted here before and I knew she …

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The dirt remains and I can still smell the dampness rising from the wet grass so long ago, such a lush aroma born only in the coolness of a pre-autumn Friday night.  Not just any night, but the night of nights, the night of The Game. Kneeling in the huddle …

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