Tons of black iron crept almost soundlessly out of Ernie’s driveway, hissing, smoke billowing, gravel crunching under it’s enormous weight. A mass of levers and gauges allowed the driver to direct the steam power boiling within. At the controls, our cousin...
Mom stood looking out the big east kitchen window of our red brick farm house, “Susan! Look out the window, Cheryl’s outside with Blackie. Leading him in the rain!” I dropped my library book, uncurled my legs and jumped up in one quick movement, pressing my face...
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I love stories – reading, writing, listening, watching. I’ve always had a creative spark (my mind contrives twisted plots for fun) but working in the business world doesn’t leave much room for individual artistic flair. So after working in different businesses for 35 years, I’ve taken a detour onto the creative side.