A verse of stories, short and long.
If we were having coffee, I’d say that I’ve probably had enough coffee for the day, but I think I can sip on another cup or two with you since you stopped by. And thanks for stopping by! You are, of course, always welcome, and you know I can always hook you up with a caffeine boost in the form of a hot brewed coffee. Coffee not your thing, we can probably find something to suit you.
Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare – 2019/09/14”
“It’s you! I’m your biggest fan. I’ve read all your thesis’s and theories. Brilliant! If you wouldn’t mind…”
“Sorry son, didn’t see you there.” Professor Land removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, before looking the lad, a ball of barely contained energy, up and down. “I was quite lost in an enchanted forest when you found me, and want very much to return.”
The boy stood stunned and wide-eyed, not knowing how to react. At once, pleased to be acknowledged and miffed at being dismissed.
“Take a card and see me tomorrow. Office hours are on there. Goodnight.”
WC : 100
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you how happy I am that Dorian blew on by without too much heartache and hardship to the home-front and the surrounding areas. We would have the Saturday night college football game on, LSU at Texas, and be sipping some fresh brewed Eight O’Clock coffee. Coffee not your thing? We can probably scrounge up some tea or something to suit you, so sit back, relax, and let’s chat.
Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare – 2019/09/07”If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I’ve thought a lot about writing over the last couple of weeks. Then, I’d mention that thinking about writing does not translate to writing. The past couple of weeks have been a struggle, and I can’t tell you why.
Anyway, it’s late, just past midnight, but there’s coffee in the pot and college football on the tv, so grab a cup and make yourself comfortable and we’ll see how the game turns out. It’s Oregon and Auburn. I recorded it while out running, so if you know who wins, don’t spoil it for me.
If writing has been the dark spot over the last couple of weeks, running has to be the bright counterpoint to that. The half marathon training is going well. Tonight’s run was 9 miles and I’m happy to say they came fairly easy. If the race had been tonight, the distance would not have been an issue, so I’ll probably start doing a bit more speedwork so that perhaps I can finish the race faster than I previously thought I could.
I think I’ll keep this short tonight. Mostly because there’s not much to report, and partly so we can play around on the guitar while the game plays. So feel free to sit back and relax, there’s lots of coffee and more can be brewed it we go through the pot.
Thanks for stopping by, see you next week!
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you about the little alligator I saw on my run Friday. We’d sip our coffee, Seattle’s Best, fresh brewed with whatever fixings you’d prefer and listen to the tunes flow softly from a random playlist. Right now, it’s Maren Morriss, up next, who knows?
So yeah, the alligator turned out to be the best part of Friday’s run. It was hot and humid, and I was tired, but the week had not allowed for a lot of miles and I really was looking to put in a good effort. What I ended up with was seven and a quarter miles of struggle and some pics of a little gator who had found himself on the road.
Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare – 8/18/19”
“Wow, he really meant it,” Stinky squealed.
“Sure did. Got inside just in time too,” Pinkey said peeking out the window. “Hate to think what would have happened…” She shook her head.
Gray stepped out amid the destruction unafraid, spotting the wolf laid by the street recovering from all the huffing and puffing. “Yep, you’d think they’d learn after all these years. This old brick held up for my Great Grandhog, and it’s still strong as anything.” He patted an appreciative hoof on the brick and squealed laughter.
“One day little piggies,” croaked the wolf. “I’ll get you one day.”
WC: 100
Thin wisps of smoke climb from the trembling tip of Henry’s cigarette, up and up through fading shafts of evening light. He watches them go and dreams of joining them, lazily curling up, wafting away, free on the constant breeze that flows through the old building, making it the perfect place to fix.
Henry watched it go, visualized his own journey, drifting free among the clouds and picked up his belt. His hand steadied the moment he bit down on leather, the vein stood out, and he plucked up the needle. It was time to make his dreams come true.
WC: 100
