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Showing posts with label
Mick Parsons
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Showing posts with label
Mick Parsons
.
Show all posts
16 April, 2019
From Field Notes: Excerpts, 7th-9th April 2019 - Orange Poppy, Long Gone
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7 April view of the Wakarusa River Spent the early afternoon downtown. Had lunch with the Market Street Irregulars and then had the...
26 March, 2019
Field Notes, 24 March 2019: Beautifully Savage
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[Indianapolis:] Part of me wanted to miss the bus, or for something to go wrong in Louisville just so I could have one more minute w...
16 January, 2019
from Record of a Pair of Well-Worn Traveling Boots -- Anticipation
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I was traveling when my wife and got together. Our courtship was one of distance and of patience: letters, emails, phone calls when a ch...
30 November, 2018
Rubber Tramp Stories: The Story of R (Retread)
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[I first published this story on my old American Re:visionary Blog. But, as I grow and expand my Rubber Tramp Stories, I thought it was ap...
24 October, 2018
Letters from Trumplandia: Invisible City, Part 3
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Part of outreach means we end up seeing some the same people over and over. Sometimes we don't see certain folks for a span of time ...
16 October, 2018
Rubber Tramp Stories 1: Big Rock Candy Mountain is Hollow
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I met a hobo once, through a mutual friend. He came in on a southbound CSX and hopped off about seven blocks from my house, near a McDon...
10 October, 2018
Letters from Trumplandia: Invisible City, Part 2
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[This is Part 2 of a series that I'll add to intermittently. It may come in waves of two or three posts in a row, or it may be weeks o...
04 June, 2018
It's all casual along the dirty, sacred river
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I spied the end of a sex transaction while walking to the coffee shop. As I rounded the corner from my street to the main artery, I saw ...
20 April, 2018
Kintsukuroi: Or, Being Humpty Dumpty
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The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. ~ Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms Check out more of Beth...
30 March, 2018
Darkness as the absence, not the opposite of light (For Smiley) - A Draft
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My father, I think, wanted to be a deliberate man. On days when the boil in my blood near overflows I imagine what the se...
23 March, 2018
Rockabilly Billy and the Texas 5, Part 9: The Painted Woman
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I let her lead the way up the stairs and while we were walking she hummed this funny little tune to herself, and every time I tried talk...
02 March, 2018
Something like the face of (draft)
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Ignore the monsters in the shadows. Life is not like your childhood cartoons, and that is not a cape on your back. The st...
23 February, 2018
Ethel's Frankie - a short dog fiction (draft)
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Ethel knew there was just something not right about the boy, and she could never quite lay her finger on what it was. He ran around lik...
26 January, 2018
New Fiction: Thus the congregation says
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I knew something was wrong when Twila gave me the stink eye outside the student union. Divorces are difficult enough. Being young – to...
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