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“What the hell are we doing back here?” My wife’s jet black air surrounded a soft face, that at this moment was burning with anger. Her question wasn’t unexpected. “What were we supposed to do?” I demanded. We were unwrapping our stuff from the trip. “Were we just supposed to wave goodbye as everybody headed… Continue reading Day #13: Family

I just cleaned up Howitt (I was up a little late) and I made a number of small but important changes to Waking Up.

It is December 31st, 2009, and, of course, I’m travelling. I’ve got a long connection in Denver Airport. It is New Year’s Eve and I don’t have my family, and so I decide to take a seat in the closest Airport bar. I drudge into the bar, with its modular sports-themed decorations. I sit at… Continue reading Day #12: Howitt

I hate waking up. You’re there, sleeping peacefully, enjoying wonderful dreams. Your wife is tucked up next to you and your infant daughter is snoring away in the room next door. The morning light comes through the windows and the alarm clock goes off – and all you want to do is enjoy a little… Continue reading Day #11: Waking Up

I set up my tripod carefully. I get behind the video camera and turn it on. The couple is perfectly in frame. I give a thumbs up and the woman smiles in that grandmotherly way that says she’s enjoying helping a youngster like me out a bit. She is helping me out. This is an interview… Continue reading Day #10: Siren's Call

Under his breath, Jason Webster recites the Shahadah to himself, again and again, “There is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet.” He is approaching the security check point, and he is praying that he can clear it. He doesn’t need to worry. Just before entering the airport, Jason Webster had swallowed two… Continue reading Day #9: Jason Webster

The smell is what I love the most. The smell of wet fir and pine and cedar. They assault my nostrils and I draw them in. They remind me of simpler days, of childhood days playing in this self-same forest. I inhale deeply and keep running. I love this land. The land, however, seems to… Continue reading Day #8: Betrayal

I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it. I pick my daughter up from school, and all I can see are dollar signs. It started before I got there, of course. My used Toyota Corolla, $125.00/month in payments. Her backpack, $43.00. Her books, G-d knows how much. Dollar signs, everywhere. With a hop,… Continue reading Day #7: The $115 Dress?

The doctor had kindly eyes. He shook Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s hands as they came into the office. Mr. Johnson appeared calm. His wife, however, was visibly agitated. Noting these sorts of things came with his line of work. The Doctor smiled and then he gave a very curt and professional handshake to their little… Continue reading Day #6: Amber

Today is Friday, the day before Shabbos. This is traditionally a very busy day and I won’t normally have time to write a story. In order to keep on track, I will normally post either two stories Saturday night or two on Thursday. I’m hoping to get one in today though – it is a… Continue reading ADMIN: Friday