"going to the edge and back, one word at a time."
There was this boy. He grew up in the rural South. He drank Pepsi Cola from glass bottles. He ate Nabs. He worked in tobacco fields at the age of twelve. He dreamed. His imagination was his escape. It was his portal. At a young age, he knew other realms existed. You just had to …
Life as a writer starts with a blank page. I let my fingers rattle the top of the computer keys without actually hitting them. I close my eyes and disappear for a minute or two. I have to ask myself the following questions before me and you embark on our journey together: Where do we …
The other day I caught Vernon laughing at himself. He has a slow leak in his rear passenger tire, and every second day he has to fill it back up to thirty-eight PSI because the thick piece of rubber is that demanding of his patience, smooth demeanor, and personal time. No matter which point of …
I would like to thank those that read my last post, Introductions First, and all the others that signed up for my future posts. I am eternally grateful for each one of you. I promise to make sure that our short time together is not wasted. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, a Happy …
vernonwrites 
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