Category: Story

Stand alone submissions that may inspire submissions in any form.

Follow Me

“Follow me!” Wm shouted over his shoulder, and he dropped onto the downhill run.

“You have got to be . . . “ I started to reply, but he was already gone.

What followed was one of the most exhilarating and terrifying things that I have ever done. Leaving myself no further time for contemplation and rationalization, I pushed off and started my run. At first the hiss of the skis in the snow was oddly comforting. Soon, however, as gravity and the ski wax took hold, my speed began to increase. Faster and faster I went, and soon I was hurtling down the logging road. My balance was terrible; arm and ski poles waved uncontrollably. As I gained speed I began to lean farther and farther over my skis, a sure-fire recipe for a tumble. Stopping and turning as controlled exercises were out of the question. I concentrated on holding as straight a line as possible as I rocketed down the mountain. You can imagine my relief as a county road appeared ahead of me. It appeared as open and inviting as a putting green; at last my heart-thumping trip was almost completed . . . almost.

When passing from deep powder to plowed dirt road there is a subtle change in the consistency and temperature of the snow. What previously served as a smooth and slippery glide path turned suddenly into a ski-grabbing, ankle-breaking leghold trap. My downhill run was abruptly terminated as my skis grabbed and held firm. I pitched face-first on to the road – right at the feet of a grizzled old bobcat hunter.

The man wore a ragged old hunting coat. from his should hung a Winchester .30-.30, with a hank of clothesline for a sling. His hunting dog was similarly attached to the man’s waist with another length of line. He paused at the apparition in front of him, all legs and skis and poles intertwined in the late afternoon sun.

The bobcat hunter looked towards the sky, then at me at his feet.

“Well, that sure looks like a lotta fun,” he finally said.

And with that, he left as quietly and abruptly as he had arrived.

I picked myself up, dusted snow from my clothing, and said nothing. Neither did Wm, either, and we headed home.

A 76 Year Old Returns to College

This 76 year old returns to college to take Dr. Kathleen Hudson’s Creative Writing class to develop story writing skills. It’s felt like most of my stories have been locked behind some doorway, deep inside my brain. I hoped developing those skills would become the key to unlocking that doorway.

Before class started, I created a blog, WhereIDwell.net. I bought a $110 Apple Pencil, which I intended to use taking class notes directly on my iPad. Back at my cabin, where I physically dwell, over a glass of wine, I would edit, add links and transfer those notes to my blog.

One story, still in the writing practice stage, takes place when I worked for IBM. A few times a year, one or two employees from sites across the U.S. would be selected to attend IBM’s highly regarded Systems Research Institute. At that time, SRI was located on East 42nd St in Manhattan. Over 10 weeks, college graduate level courses in systems architecture, computer science, math and logic, were taught by respected PhDs. I was honored to be one of those attendees.

On our first day we were given a group orientation, the kind of advice that sticks in your head.

An instructor told us, there are two types of people, ”BE’ers” and ”SEE’ers”.

He then drew a huge outline of Manhattan on a white board. Scattered dots all over the island. Those dots represented safe areas. He said, “pay close attention, trust the hairs on the back of your necks getting from one safe area to another. Those safe areas are constantly changing”.

Today I see that as a metaphor pertaining to writing stories. Those dots may trigger memories or the inspiration for stories, poetry, song… all writing. They can appear anywhere, even in a place we’ve never noticed them before.

As Writers, I see us constantly shifting between ”BE’ers” and ”SEE’ers”. Yes, we must remain close observers, but in our writing, we also must BE what we SEE.

Well, I didn’t end up using my $110 Apple Pencil, I used pen and notebook. I did have those glasses of wine.

Dr. Kathleen Hudson, during these 6 short weeks, you have shown me that doorway inside my brain has always been open.

You’ve provided an amazing list of guest speakers.

Class time, required reading, assignments and, in very large degree, my fellow students, have combined to convinced me, we all have amazing stories to tell.

My stories, of course are written for me. But I also know, once completed, I have Something of Value to leave for those that come after me, along with the confidence that I will tell my stories in compelling ways.

Kathleen, from the bottom of my heart…

Thank You,

Wm initials
Wm Selfie
A 76 Year Old Returns to College
Click for YouTube video of talk