Stories tagged “grass”
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Conversations continue

Haydon, digging his shovel into the soft earth, said, “That S O B and I worked at the Columbia Brick and Tile. One hot summer he and I were cementing the inside of a coke chimney—-” “Haydon, am I going to have to dig this hole ...
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At Last Glance
I hate that feeling when you know it’s going to rain, but your grandpa sends you outside to retrieve a baseball you lost. As you make your way outside, you feel alone and out in the open. You feel like mother nature’s up to no good. I pushe...
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More Conversations

Homer sat in his truck keeping an eye out for Haydon in the side mirror. He was chewing gum so fast and furious his jaw was getting tired. Finally he tossed the gum from the open window, reached up over the visor and produced a pack of Camel cigarettes...
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voice
i have a no voice the trees breath for me, in and out their deep sighs of life and love i have no voice the sun, it speaks for me telling story after story of what is to come i have no voice the grass makes sounds for me murmuring syllables from dewy ...
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Rolling
Jack didn’t remember how it began. But he remembered how it ended all too well. A grass stain from his forehead to his chin. A green line dividing his face in two. And his friends laughing at him. Again. How had it happened? Who’s idea was ...
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Perfect Happiness
Opening her eyes, she saw all the colors of the sky, “We’re just in time for the sunset!” He smiled, “You wanna watch it from the truck?” “I have a better idea,” she beamed & took his hand “C’mo...
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Sound
The waves crashed on the rocky atlantic coast below as on the cliff above Duncan stood. The sun over head, the sky the softest blue without a puffy cloud in the sky. The grass blew wistfully left to right and back again as the soft wind caressed itR...
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Rained Out
I hate the rain… I just can’t seem to find a home capable of standing up to it. My heart feels heavy whenever I see the dense grey clouds rolling in. When the first droplets fall I always have to dash down below, hoping to escape the starti...
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Hair.
As Cecil ran his nails through her hair, Mary couldn’t help but realize that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Even if a bug crawled up her ear and ate her brain, at least she’d die a contented person. This was enough. People went on and on ...
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Shadow Meadow
The grass turned yellow, as it grew long in the summer heat laying flat on the ground. Where thick forests stood was now a maze of ashen totems of an earlier time. The simple gate way far back held with wood and nails still protected the fields from wh...