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Archive for the ‘Non-Fiction’ Category

And So They Met

In Non-Fiction, Personal, Writing on September 1, 2015 at 10:10 pm

How She Met Her Father, Part 4.  See Part 1, Part 2, & Part 3.

Two months had passed since her graduation.  Against all expectation, he had actually shown up.  Late – sneaking in a side door once the ceremony had already begun – and empty handed, but he was there.  Afterwards, waiting out back of the school near the parking lot, sending in his youngest child, her half brother, to get her.  Awkward side hugs, awkward small talk as if they had known each other from years ago.  Since then, her sisters requested visits more often, explaining “Daddy wants to see you, and he’ll meet you at our house.”  Sometimes he was there already, clutching a beer.  Sometimes they would call him once or twice, then have to pick him up from whatever friend’s house where he had started drinking.  Sometimes, though not often, he would already be too drunk to make it at all.

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This is Halloween, Part 3

In Non-Fiction, Opinion/Personal, Personal, Writing on November 1, 2013 at 4:04 pm

Part 1 & Part 2

Now we’ve reached present day.  Yes, I know Halloween was technically yesterday.  However, many places in my state cancelled trick or treating due to inclement weather, and lots of bars and friends are still throwing costume parties this coming weekend, so I think it’s just fine!

So I had my run-ins with Ouija Boards and strange happenings.  You would think one would learn, right?  Apparently not me.  Things like this don’t generally scare me and I find it all very intriguing.  Curiosity killed the cat, they say…

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This is Halloween, Part 2

In Non-Fiction, Random, Writing on October 29, 2013 at 1:45 pm

I started off in Part 1 with stories from my grandmother, before I was even thought of.  There is a mini-story of my own experience when I was a child in which I awoke in the middle of the night, tossing in turning in the large bed next to my mother.  In my tossing and turning, I roll over to face my mother and see a figure.  Of course, even as a child I assume it’s my eyes playing tricks on me.  But my eyes focus and the figure doesn’t go away.  It was lighter than the rest of the room, almost glowing, and was standing next to the bed leaning over my mother.  It was a boy, looking very close to my own age of around 6 or 7.  I stared silently and the figure looked from my mother to me.  At this point, I panicked and pulled the blanket over my face.  I sat for a moment and when I lowered the blanket below my eyes again, everything was gone and the room was completely dark.  But that’s a short story with little detail, despite the fact that to this day I can recall specific details about the boy’s face and hair and expression.  The good stories come much later on.  Skip ahead.  Little Kay grows up, graduates high school, and moves away to college.  That’s when things start to get interesting again….

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This is Halloween, Part 1

In Non-Fiction, Opinion/Personal, Personal, Writing on October 24, 2013 at 10:40 am

I’ve always loved the supernatural: movies, documentaries, reality ghost hunting shows, costumes, all the like that spikes in popularity through the month of October.  So in honor of my love for this area and for my favorite holiday, Halloween, of course, I decided to share a few stories I’ve heard over the years and a few of my own experiences.  For the first story, I feel I should start at the beginning with part of the reason I ended up getting so interested in this area to begin with.  This is a story that happened long before my time that I’ve heard told and retold many times over the years from childhood.

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The Invitation

In "How She Met Her Father" Series, Non-Fiction, Writing on May 23, 2013 at 7:14 pm

 Part 3 of “How She Met Her Father.”  Read Part 1 and Part 2.

She could count the number of times she had seen him on one hand. In almost 18 years, it was that few.  She remembered every time, even though she knew he didn’t.  She remembered every glance, every passing, every time knowing that he had no clue who she was.

She remembered the stories. Her mom’s friend coming to visit almost once a week, bringing toys and playing with her so it could be reported back to him how she was growing up.  Her newfound sisters recounting the plethora of times he polished off a case of beer and cried and voiced his wishes of how he would have liked to know her.  Did this affect her? No. He was the adult here, he made the decision to deny her from the very beginning. That’s not something you can so easily wish away. That’s not something very forgettable when you’re on the receiving end.

Discarded

In "How She Met Her Father" Series, Non-Fiction, Personal, Writing on January 13, 2013 at 10:15 pm

This is Part 2 of the “How She Met Her Father” series.  The parts are written in chronological order of the main character, the girl, so I recommend reading them in order so it flows smoothly and stays true to the story line.  If you haven’t read Part 1, The Solo Sibling, you should check that out.

Discarded.  All these things, thrown out.  Toys that were once loved and cherished.  Stuffed animals that probably made a small child feel a little safer in a dark bedroom in the middle of the night.  Old odds and ends, gifts from Christmases years ago, things that must still carry memories if the owner took the time to think about where it came from, how they got it, what it meant at one point in time.  Yet here they all were, laid out on a blanket over a borrowed folding table sitting in a patch of dirt and gravel on the side of the road.  So close to the road that passing cars drowned out every voice and added another layer of dust to the already grimy discarded and forgotten items.

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The Solo Sibling

In "How She Met Her Father" Series, Non-Fiction, Personal, Writing on January 4, 2013 at 11:38 pm

This is Part 1 to a series I have titled “How She Met Her Father.”  It is based on my own experiences growing up and while I have chosen not to write it as a first person account, it is quite factual to the real events.

The store was full.  Bodies and carts everywhere.  It was a maze, as Wal-Mart always has been, always is, and always will be.  She was small, riding in the shopping cart like a mobile playpen, keeping a watchful eye on her mother as they barreled through the aisles.  Mom was the ultimate swerver and collision avoider, which allowed her to peacefully play in the cart oblivious to the madness surrounding her.

This was how she always spent shopping trips, unless they were in the toy aisle.  In the toy aisle, Mom would lift her out and let her wander through the Barbies and dolls and all the accessories.  The only other time she would get pulled from her own imagination was when Mom would run into an old friend.  This happened often, since Wal-Mart was the only store in the town where she grew up.  She generally knew everyone that would stop them.  They worked at her school, they were parents to her classmates, they lived on the same hollow that her family had lived on since before she was born.  Except for this time, on this day.

She heard Mom’s name called and felt the cart roll to a stop.  She glanced to see who it was this time. The secretary from the front office of school?  The bus driver that lived down the hollow and always let her uncles use his basketball goal?  No, she didn’t recognize this person.  It was a woman, not very tall and somewhat round, with mousy brown hair and a thick southern accent – much thicker than hers or Mom’s. This woman was flanked by two girls.  The comparisons were obvious: both were small and skinny, much like she was, with blond hair of just slightly darker shades than her own.  They were both looking up at her, now standing in the cart, like they expected some magical trick.

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Yet Another Facet

In Non-Fiction, Writing on January 4, 2013 at 11:33 pm

I know, I know.  I can’t help it.  I have tried to accurately portray how many different directions my mind is going in at all times, so this should be expected.  I gave everyone fair warning.

Anyways…I have created another category to create another menu option to lump together another type of post.  “Mostly True” is what i have decided to call it.  This is my first post under this category.  I figured I should A: draw attention to it so people will realize it’s there, and B: give an explanation instead of just randomly posting things in it and knowing that people may not fully understand.

As it sounds, the posts in this section will be mostly true accounts of events.  I have been working on an idea I’ve had for a long time to create stories out of the crazy happenings in my life.  Some will be done first person, of course, but some I have decided to change a bit and make it more the format of a story.  You’ll understand better once I get my next post up, as I decided to do my first real post in that way.

A lot of tiny details will be my imagination.  I always tend to think I remember more than I actually do, when in reality it is my mind on overdrive.  However, I do have a pretty decent memory, so nothing I post under this section will be dramatically exaggerated.  Some of it may read as though I have taken a mundane night and turned it into an unfortunate Jersey ShoreDuck DynastyWill and Grace ménage à trois, but I assure you I will not be inventing things just to make the stories interesting.  Trust me, I wouldn’t even be able to make some of this stuff up.

I suppose this would be considered semi-autobiographical?  Who knows.  All I know is that I’m about to unleash it all…

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