Home

Welcome to my personal blog site. Here you will find a collection of my short stories.

Short stories are a great way to pass the time. Even if you only have a half hour, they can transport you to another world with nothing more than words and basic syntax thrown together in a way that is somehow more interesting than those same words and syntax when they’re found in the phone-book or the Louisiana State Code of Law. It’s a little like the way stage magicians create magic with nothing more than a bit of smoke and mirrors.

Unfortunately, not all of us have the luxury of working with the best of the best materials ―smoke machines being quite expensive― so we have to make do with whatever happens to be lying about the house in abundant quantities. It isn’t ideal, but the great thing about writing is that even the most basic elements can produce something elegant. A few well-placed words, or a cleverly inserted comma can go a long way towards creating something magical ―even if, sometimes, it’s a bit more lathery than we might like.

Recent Posts

You are now in France. Watch your step.

If there’s one thing a person notices upon coming to France it’s that the people here love their pets, so much so, in fact, that they go out of their way to give them everything they want whether this be a warm place to sleep, their favorite food, or their choice of places to relieve themselves. The latter of these, in particular, was the first to catch my attention as I walked along the streets of St-Flour in a sort of reverie, thinking how fortunate I am to have been given the chance to step right into the heart of the French countryside only to look down and find that this was not the only thing that I had stepped in. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences to be sure, but I found myself comforted by the fact that I was not alone; yes, in France, native and traveling pedestrians alike, from all walks ―as it were― of life, must get used to the fact that their progress will occasionally be impeded by the need to scrape the bottom of their shoe.

I suppose a person eventually gets used to it if they live here long enough, however. I recall one morning when I was walking along and, as usual, paying careful attention to what lay on the pavement just in front of me when I noticed a French woman walking energetically along just in front of me, her gaze fixed unfalteringly ahead of her in what I can only call an act of the sheerest bravery. Since I happened to be going in the same direction, I followed, observing her progress with fascination, thoroughly entranced by the practiced ease of her movements as she weaved this way and that, effortlessly avoiding these obstacles, one of which ―I noticed as I finally tore my attention away for a moment― I had just trodden upon myself.

That’s life in France, I suppose, and aside from that one shining example of matchless expertise, it seems that even the French must beware of their step from time to time. Like the famous monkey that falls from trees, even a Frenchman is capable of putting his foot in it and, here in St-Flour, it’s not just dogs that you have to worry about, but cows, horses, and sheep as well.

  1. Sometimes the customer just has to wait. Leave a reply
  2. But I Don’t Wanna Blog! 3 Replies
  3. The Sheep Whisperer Leave a reply
  4. 3) The Pooka 2 Replies