Dave and The Tree House
written by: Jim Bates
I don't know why I ended up taking myself so seriously, but I did. Here I was forty one years old and ...
Smoking Out Agent One
written by: Michael Grotsky
In the Sierra Madres, Morrison met somebody who called himself a journalist. Between shots of mesc...
The Pink Cardin
written by: Dan Morey
In Rome, creativity comes in many forms. As you walk the cobbled streets, artists will offer to sketch you. Po...
Scent of A Man
written by: E Barnes
She stood behind me in the grocery store. Some guy in front of me had a problem and the cashier had to turn on t...
The Tome of Cooter Clemons
written by: Marlon Martinez
You didn't know this hombre. Never met him before in your life, but he gave advice like you'r...
Strangers In The Night
written by: John H Paterson
@j_paterson
Burkina Faso begged to be explored for its mineral resources when our company began wo...
I'm Sorry For our Loss
written by: James Harris
Dishes clang and grills sizzle at Ladybird Diner.
Thursday mornings are pretty slow, but the diner ha...
