hell is entered through the junk yard/part 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
My recently dead friend was driving the big old car very fast through the back streets toward the local junk yard. I was in the back seat.
A childhood friend also long dead waved to us as we entered between the cluttered junk cars and piles of old parts. Cranes and bull dozers pushed the old car parts about.
My friend chatted to me into the back seat like a cab driver entertaining a paying customer. My friend backed the big powerful car too quickly back first into a row of junk cars. The car we were in had a door at the rear like a station wagon, or was it a hearse.
A large ferocious black dog guarded the entrance to a subterranean space that the swinging back door of our vehicle was now blocking. The dog viciously tried to get at me in the car.
Calmly I prepared to enter the descending road into hell that the large black dog Cerberus loyally guarded.
end part 1
part 2
Hell is entered through the junk yard part 2
I wasn't about to enter hell through a junk yard. I was concocting an elaborate dream obviously induced by the shot of medicine the two ambulance drivers had given me at the basketball court where I had badly broken my ankle. Something ominous was happening to me and my subconscious was warning me.
I could hear the two ambulance drivers talking. They might need to give the guy in the back another shot. I was the guy in the back. I shook off the dream about the junkyard and going to hell and willed myself to lay still and focus on what the guys were saying.
They were going to take me somewhere and sell me for future medical parts. I was sure I heard that. I knew that was real. I couldn't let them give me another shot. I had to wake up and protect myself.
end part 2
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
hell is entered through the junk yard
hell is entered through the junk yard
fiction
edward w pritchard
My recently dead friend was driving the big old car very fast through the back streets toward the local junk yard. I was in the back seat.
A childhood friend also long dead waved to us as we entered between the cluttered junk cars and piles of old parts. Cranes and bull dozers pushed the old car parts about.
My friend chatted to me into the back seat like a cab driver entertaining a paying customer. My friend backed the big powerful car too quickly back first into a row of junk cars. The car we were in had a door at the rear like a station wagon, or was it a hearse.
A large ferocious black dog guarded the entrance to a subterranean space that the swinging back door of our vehicle was now blocking. The dog viciously tried to get at me in the car.
Calmly I prepared to enter the descending road into hell that the large black dog Cerberus loyally guarded.
fiction
edward w pritchard
My recently dead friend was driving the big old car very fast through the back streets toward the local junk yard. I was in the back seat.
A childhood friend also long dead waved to us as we entered between the cluttered junk cars and piles of old parts. Cranes and bull dozers pushed the old car parts about.
My friend chatted to me into the back seat like a cab driver entertaining a paying customer. My friend backed the big powerful car too quickly back first into a row of junk cars. The car we were in had a door at the rear like a station wagon, or was it a hearse.
A large ferocious black dog guarded the entrance to a subterranean space that the swinging back door of our vehicle was now blocking. The dog viciously tried to get at me in the car.
Calmly I prepared to enter the descending road into hell that the large black dog Cerberus loyally guarded.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
you don't see many handicapped children at restaurants
you don't see many handicapped children at restaurants
fiction
edward w pritchard
When you are down, when you are blue, when you are dissatisfied with your life or your situation it's nice to go to a restaurant and have a fine meal. It always picks me up when I am lonely or sad to be in a busy restaurant with food I enjoy and have a comfortable but ritualized public experience with other diners, even those I don't know or will never see again.
You don't see many handicapped children at restaurants. It would be nice if given the constraints the world puts on handicapped children if once a week or maybe only once a month they could go out to a restaurant and have a good meal and a comfortable experience. It would be good if anyone handicapped who wanted to go could eat for free once a week at an area restaurant. It could be done on a slow night, like Tuesday maybe. The restaurants that wanted to participate could give the food for free to handicapped children and in return get a sticker or something acknowledging their participation and others of the general dining public would know to patronize that establishment. It's a good idea and good for business.
I hope someone high functioning with lots of drive and organizational skills will put this idea together around here where I live. In the meantime I will try in my way to promote and start the ball rolling.
fiction
edward w pritchard
When you are down, when you are blue, when you are dissatisfied with your life or your situation it's nice to go to a restaurant and have a fine meal. It always picks me up when I am lonely or sad to be in a busy restaurant with food I enjoy and have a comfortable but ritualized public experience with other diners, even those I don't know or will never see again.
You don't see many handicapped children at restaurants. It would be nice if given the constraints the world puts on handicapped children if once a week or maybe only once a month they could go out to a restaurant and have a good meal and a comfortable experience. It would be good if anyone handicapped who wanted to go could eat for free once a week at an area restaurant. It could be done on a slow night, like Tuesday maybe. The restaurants that wanted to participate could give the food for free to handicapped children and in return get a sticker or something acknowledging their participation and others of the general dining public would know to patronize that establishment. It's a good idea and good for business.
I hope someone high functioning with lots of drive and organizational skills will put this idea together around here where I live. In the meantime I will try in my way to promote and start the ball rolling.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
story 11 of 11
story 11 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
Visari the Italian painting and writer w...
to be continued
fiction
edward w pritchard
Visari the Italian painting and writer w...
to be continued
Gertrude screamed " your anecdotes are not literature", story 10 of 11
Gertrude screamed " your anecdotes are not literature"
fiction
edward w pritchard
story 10 of 11
Gertrude screamed" your anecdotes are not literature.
Earnest called her a dyke.
It was the last time the once two friends talked.
Later when Earnest Hemingway wrote "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" he considered naming one of the vultures in the story Gertrude. Sadly Gertrude Stein's fame faded and Earnest...
to be continued
fiction
edward w pritchard
story 10 of 11
Gertrude screamed" your anecdotes are not literature.
Earnest called her a dyke.
It was the last time the once two friends talked.
Later when Earnest Hemingway wrote "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" he considered naming one of the vultures in the story Gertrude. Sadly Gertrude Stein's fame faded and Earnest...
to be continued
Bijoux Jones stops for a drink/story 9 of 11
Bijoux Jones stops for a drink/story 9 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
The man Jones waited until he finished his drink before he shot the bar owner Tom Liston.
That Bijoux Jones is a cold blooded SOB screamed Mrs. Liston. Later after Mrs. Liston left with family Johny Sorwell disagreed. Jones is a professional said Mr. Sorwell. Tom owed money to the wrong people. It was just business with Bijoux Jones continued Johny Sorwell. Jones is a man who can appreciate a fine mixed drink and Tom Liston was the best mixologist in this part of Texas said Mr. Sorwell. Sorwell's girlfriend Edith Sheets agreed, " Mr Liston ..
to be continued
fiction
edward w pritchard
The man Jones waited until he finished his drink before he shot the bar owner Tom Liston.
That Bijoux Jones is a cold blooded SOB screamed Mrs. Liston. Later after Mrs. Liston left with family Johny Sorwell disagreed. Jones is a professional said Mr. Sorwell. Tom owed money to the wrong people. It was just business with Bijoux Jones continued Johny Sorwell. Jones is a man who can appreciate a fine mixed drink and Tom Liston was the best mixologist in this part of Texas said Mr. Sorwell. Sorwell's girlfriend Edith Sheets agreed, " Mr Liston ..
to be continued
story 8 of 11, in memoriam Earnest/ for Micheal Palin
story 8 of 11, in memoriam Earnest/ for Micheal Palin
fiction
edward w pritchard
Earnest Hemingway had been writing his weight on the walls of the bathroom of the ranch as was his custom a few minutes before his death. For once he had lost weight, hence the problem. The once robust man's man was described as thin and drawn looking according to long time acquaintances interviewed by Ketchum police.
A double barrel shotgun leaves an awful mess said officers who agreed to talk if left unnamed. He may have been cleaning the gun said another anonymous witness. I don't think so, if you read his books and stories...
Hemingway's end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Earnest Hemingway had been writing his weight on the walls of the bathroom of the ranch as was his custom a few minutes before his death. For once he had lost weight, hence the problem. The once robust man's man was described as thin and drawn looking according to long time acquaintances interviewed by Ketchum police.
A double barrel shotgun leaves an awful mess said officers who agreed to talk if left unnamed. He may have been cleaning the gun said another anonymous witness. I don't think so, if you read his books and stories...
Hemingway's end
story 7 of 11, Guy returns to fourth grade
story 7 of 11, Guy returns to fourth grade
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's difficult for a 27 year old graduate student to return to the fourth grade. It's a technicality, a bureaucratic nightmare. Still it is happening. I can't get my PHD in economics from Yale until I spend one month in fourth grade. My State requires a minimum attendance to finish grade school and what with Father's international travel back when I was ten my absenteeism has caught up to me.
Being the biggest kid in the school is one thing. Failing arithmetic because you are fantasizing about the Teacher Miss Ford is something else. Miss Ford has long red hair and a ...
to be continued
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's difficult for a 27 year old graduate student to return to the fourth grade. It's a technicality, a bureaucratic nightmare. Still it is happening. I can't get my PHD in economics from Yale until I spend one month in fourth grade. My State requires a minimum attendance to finish grade school and what with Father's international travel back when I was ten my absenteeism has caught up to me.
Being the biggest kid in the school is one thing. Failing arithmetic because you are fantasizing about the Teacher Miss Ford is something else. Miss Ford has long red hair and a ...
to be continued
6 of 11, America June 2012. Paris France June 1848
6 of 11, America June 2012. Paris France June 1848
fiction
edward w pritchard
Behind the barricades in the streets of Paris in June of 1848 the women were the last to yield. We feared for their safety. The goverment troops were near and orders were to blow us to pieces.
The women were fighting against perceived injustice, against their husbands and children and would not be intimidated. We talked, we tried threats, we brought survivors of the 1789 violence to speak. To no avail. All reasonable revolutionists had left, but the women remained.
I do not understand women. Me a bachelor, reluctantly I understand their motivations. Tomorrow...
end 6 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
Behind the barricades in the streets of Paris in June of 1848 the women were the last to yield. We feared for their safety. The goverment troops were near and orders were to blow us to pieces.
The women were fighting against perceived injustice, against their husbands and children and would not be intimidated. We talked, we tried threats, we brought survivors of the 1789 violence to speak. To no avail. All reasonable revolutionists had left, but the women remained.
I do not understand women. Me a bachelor, reluctantly I understand their motivations. Tomorrow...
end 6 of 11
story 5 of 11, I'll quit before I get that license
story 5 of 11, I'll quit before I get that license
fiction
edward w pritchard
author continues with his goal of writing 11 short short stories in one sitting with no preparation or bullpen of ideas
Impossible. We are not in Mussolini's Italy. I will not get a real estate license to write articles and stories for the New York magazines. Only some of my stories are about Real property and the entire idea is preposterous. I am a writer not a salesman. I have never sold a house nor have I wanted too. The bureaucrats have lost their sanity on this one. Still I do not know where to turn for assistance. Threats have been made against me and not just from the agents themselves. Yesterday was the last straw...
to be continued
story 5 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
author continues with his goal of writing 11 short short stories in one sitting with no preparation or bullpen of ideas
Impossible. We are not in Mussolini's Italy. I will not get a real estate license to write articles and stories for the New York magazines. Only some of my stories are about Real property and the entire idea is preposterous. I am a writer not a salesman. I have never sold a house nor have I wanted too. The bureaucrats have lost their sanity on this one. Still I do not know where to turn for assistance. Threats have been made against me and not just from the agents themselves. Yesterday was the last straw...
to be continued
story 5 of 11
only with a masai
only with a masai
story 4 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
Donna could only get sexually interested in young Masai men. Not easy to find in Manhattan. She liked the thick white teeth, she liked the height and she liked the showmanship that Masai braves displayed.
Saturday afternoons after her shift at the United Nations public relations department she would walk through the six auditoriums and carefully scan the audiences at the orientation meetings and look...
to be continued
story 4 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
Donna could only get sexually interested in young Masai men. Not easy to find in Manhattan. She liked the thick white teeth, she liked the height and she liked the showmanship that Masai braves displayed.
Saturday afternoons after her shift at the United Nations public relations department she would walk through the six auditoriums and carefully scan the audiences at the orientation meetings and look...
to be continued
once a soldier
once a soldier
fiction
edward w pritchard
story 3 of 11
Father was eating a baloney sandwich and had just handed me baloney and cheese when he began to talk about his best friend Homey Williams who was killed in World War two. My father was at his side when he died and he had never mentioned it to me before. The subject of Sergeant Homey's violent death was not an appropriate subject to discuss with a ten year old boy but I was very interested because my dad had never talked to me about war before and I was fascinated by combat at that time in my life.
Half way through the story I dropped the baloney and cheese sandwich and was afraid for a minute I would throw up. Father continued to calmly supply me details on the confrontation his friend Homey had with a hand grenade. Here was a side of my Father I couldn't...
to be continued
fiction
edward w pritchard
story 3 of 11
Father was eating a baloney sandwich and had just handed me baloney and cheese when he began to talk about his best friend Homey Williams who was killed in World War two. My father was at his side when he died and he had never mentioned it to me before. The subject of Sergeant Homey's violent death was not an appropriate subject to discuss with a ten year old boy but I was very interested because my dad had never talked to me about war before and I was fascinated by combat at that time in my life.
Half way through the story I dropped the baloney and cheese sandwich and was afraid for a minute I would throw up. Father continued to calmly supply me details on the confrontation his friend Homey had with a hand grenade. Here was a side of my Father I couldn't...
to be continued
Hoping for a family funeral
Hoping for a family funeral
story 2 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
I only get to see my ex-wife at family funerals; at least if I want to see her when she acts the way she used to towards me, with affection, with a first mind attitude. It's not easy waiting between funerals to see the only one you love. Love is patient however and I adjust, to the wait and to the loss of relatives and friends. It's worth it to see my ex again, see her the way it used to be.
I have devised an early warning system between the funeral home our family customarily uses and...
to be continued
story 2 of 11
fiction
edward w pritchard
I only get to see my ex-wife at family funerals; at least if I want to see her when she acts the way she used to towards me, with affection, with a first mind attitude. It's not easy waiting between funerals to see the only one you love. Love is patient however and I adjust, to the wait and to the loss of relatives and friends. It's worth it to see my ex again, see her the way it used to be.
I have devised an early warning system between the funeral home our family customarily uses and...
to be continued
11 stories, # 1, strictly first class
11 stories, # 1, strictly first class
with no Internet at home author attempts to write 11 short stories quickly with no bullpen of stories or ideas
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's a cubical but not bad for me traveling at 22,000 feet New York to Dubai. It's my office and I do this flight twice a week, once each way.
It's a working flight for me. First class accommodations with my seat/bed modified into a work area. Just like a standard cubical except it's on an airplane. First class accommodations are important to upholding my image. I am an art buyer and seller. Dubai is where the new money is in the art world
now and I am a deal maker. Still it's difficult to conduct business at 22,000 feet but I adjust,
if ...
to be continued
story 1
with no Internet at home author attempts to write 11 short stories quickly with no bullpen of stories or ideas
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's a cubical but not bad for me traveling at 22,000 feet New York to Dubai. It's my office and I do this flight twice a week, once each way.
It's a working flight for me. First class accommodations with my seat/bed modified into a work area. Just like a standard cubical except it's on an airplane. First class accommodations are important to upholding my image. I am an art buyer and seller. Dubai is where the new money is in the art world
now and I am a deal maker. Still it's difficult to conduct business at 22,000 feet but I adjust,
if ...
to be continued
story 1
Saturday, March 3, 2012
three ladies with no tulley
three ladies with no tulley
fiction
edward w pritchard
Steamy and clammy down at the beach, the first day of fishing season began at midnight. My girl Martinique called me wanting special attention being slightly peculiar because of the tides.
Heavens no, my girl, its the first night of fishing season, tonight the Tulley's run. I'll take my dingy to Swenson's marina and buy bait and Old Baily and drink and fish all night with me mates. In the morning I will bring you fresh Tulley enough for three days.
No, no shouted Martinique into the phone. I'll call Randy O'Sullivan or Barney Crayford. I need you tonight. Come timely to me.
Laugh did I. See you in the morning I exclaimed. All the men of the village will be at sea tonight. The Tulley's will run. The wait will be good for you, old horse. I see you in the morning.
About two AM on a dark and stormy sea, instigator Barney Crayford rowed along side my boat. Barney says for all to hear, he sees Martinique over at Shatterstown tavern at ten PM sizing up the college boys down from New Jersey. Barney says then at 11:30 Martinique is over at Busby's drinking double banana shooters with two sorority girls, philosophy majors both, from Connecticut. Later Barney tells, he saw Martinique with those two lasses walking arm in arm in the hotel district.
I beat it up and down the coast, North to Atlantic City and South to Ocean side looking for M.
Imagine, what could three ladies do at the shore with no Tulley for the night?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Steamy and clammy down at the beach, the first day of fishing season began at midnight. My girl Martinique called me wanting special attention being slightly peculiar because of the tides.
Heavens no, my girl, its the first night of fishing season, tonight the Tulley's run. I'll take my dingy to Swenson's marina and buy bait and Old Baily and drink and fish all night with me mates. In the morning I will bring you fresh Tulley enough for three days.
No, no shouted Martinique into the phone. I'll call Randy O'Sullivan or Barney Crayford. I need you tonight. Come timely to me.
Laugh did I. See you in the morning I exclaimed. All the men of the village will be at sea tonight. The Tulley's will run. The wait will be good for you, old horse. I see you in the morning.
About two AM on a dark and stormy sea, instigator Barney Crayford rowed along side my boat. Barney says for all to hear, he sees Martinique over at Shatterstown tavern at ten PM sizing up the college boys down from New Jersey. Barney says then at 11:30 Martinique is over at Busby's drinking double banana shooters with two sorority girls, philosophy majors both, from Connecticut. Later Barney tells, he saw Martinique with those two lasses walking arm in arm in the hotel district.
I beat it up and down the coast, North to Atlantic City and South to Ocean side looking for M.
Imagine, what could three ladies do at the shore with no Tulley for the night?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Setting Bea on the washer
Setting Ba on the washer
fiction
edward w pritchard
Crazed with youth I set Bea on the washer for twenty minutes or more.
Later she jumped up and on a little as I grew weaker with age.
Lastly we argued about the clothes.
Why did she always have to do laundry alone?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Crazed with youth I set Bea on the washer for twenty minutes or more.
Later she jumped up and on a little as I grew weaker with age.
Lastly we argued about the clothes.
Why did she always have to do laundry alone?
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