The Bathroom
Once upon a lifetime ago, I was a remodeling contractor. I used to meet all kinds of people, go into their homes and tell them how to make them more beautiful or help them fix their problems. I'd size up the cars in the driveway and the exterior of the house, make note of the neighborhood and figure out what kind of job it would be―extravagant, modest or cheap.
Now you might figure that the best neighborhoods were the most desirable to work in, but it simply wasn't true. No one will nickel and dime you as well as someone who can afford a few extra dimes and nickels. One day as I was driving from one potential customer to another, the phone rang and I answered it. "Mrs. Potential Customer" spoke and in less time than it took you to read this sentence, my muse painted a picture in my head.
Willy's Spaghetti
Willy was a member of our family, my best buddy and will forever remain alive in my heart. He left us for the rainbow bridge last year and while he was alive, he changed forever how I perceive and understand the way some animals think and act. One day when Willy was about nine months old―almost but not quite full grown―Marg made spaghetti for dinner and as on so many other occasions, what ensued next woke up the muse...
The Muse
"Boy oh boy does that smell good. I can't wait for dinner. She's been cooking that stuff all day and I just can't wait for dinner. Mike ALWAYS shares with me and I can't wait."
The Tangled Mess
The mind's eye creates images in the space of instant. You see something, you hear something and the picture forms, and then it never leaves. Eventually something triggers the memory and you remember and new images form new thoughts and the muse writes and if you're lucky, it won't be a tangled mess...
The Muse
"I'm never going to get back. I'm stuck and I may as well shut it off and lose everything. But if I shut it off, will I get out? Will I be done? Is it over?"
Everything Changes and Stays the Same
I remember when I was a kid, sometimes you'd give a girl a ride on your bike. She could sit on the handlebars or side-saddle on the main bar. If you had a book rack, she could sit on that too which was really nice because she'd put her arms around your waist. Two teens met in front of my house as I sat at the computer working. He had his skateboard and as she approached, he showed off a little. As she walked up to meet him, and the musing began...
Pheasant Under Glass - NOT!
It is the day after Christmas sometime in the late 1990s. We are heading home from northern Wisconsin back to Illinois and my wife Margaret is driving the pickup. There are two dogs in the cab and I'm half dozing, drowsy from the holiday excitement, one last overstuffed meal from mom's kitchen, and lack of sleep. We top a rise and you can see for a good two miles. Ahead on the right is a large field with a truck parked in it, some one hundred or so yards from the road. Two people stand behind the truck wearing orange vests and they are obviously going hunting. As we draw close at seventy plus miles per hour, the muse begins to write...
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