Wood Shed Writers
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(A tribute to my father) The slightest smell of evaporated milk takes me back to a favorite childhood memory; I… more ›
Earl watched the smoke dissipate around the bare light bulb. “It’s only when you can be totally open that nothin’… more ›
It is 4:15 p.m. Dinnertime. The crowd roars on the TV in the living room area adjacent to the dining… more ›
The easiest way to avoid facing trauma is to avoid facing life. Don’t look in the mirror. Nobody wants to… more ›
I grew up in the late fifties in Ambridge, Pennsylvania, a small town on the Ohio River outside Pittsburgh. Ambridge… more ›
1 Gliding quietly around her pond was a special treat for Gracie the swan. There had been little peace or… more ›
Sorry, SZA. Saturn has 146 moons and probably one hell of a werewolf problem. Google AI told me that the… more ›