I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
All content for 6-minute Stories is the property of Randell Jones and is served directly from their servers
with no modification, redirects, or rehosting. The podcast is not affiliated with or endorsed by Podjoint in any way.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
A shadowy man with a blurry face motioned for me to come down.
In the dim light, I saw a large room containing mountains of frayed furniture, dishes, rusty hardware, and tattered cardboard boxes overflowing with yellowed papers.
“I’m coming, Mom. Hang on. I love you IloveyouIloveyou.”
It would match the electric energy inside as we bumbled and fumbled with new information gathering as furiously and ominously as the roiling storm.
My mother disliked going into debt. Self-sufficiency remained her ideal.
He rendered our family homeless and forced my mother to find shelter in abhorrent shacks.
Something had happened and the farm knew it.
Rooster Cogburn was a burly, jewel-toned arrogance of teals, reds, deeper reds, and blues shot through with lances of yellow and purple.
– “The inmates here are an army of forgotten men.”
He accepted the rejections and focused on making a successful transition from his rogue, racketeering life.
– “This isn’t a timeshare. Our program’s based on points.”
A presentation by a Dolly Parton doppelganger, so charming she could sell a bald man a comb!
– I just wanted to say, “thank you.”
Such a hole in cyberspace has no bottom, of course, so I grabbed onto one protruding root—to overtax the Alice metaphor—and pulled myself over to the side.
–There’s almost no food that I don’t like.
It usually takes a long, long hour to get the proper freeze, so we took turns slowly turning the handle over and over.
– After that, my confidence in strangers diminished.
The bicycle delivered me to-and-fro until the weather changed, and the snowy, windy, 6-month Lake Erie winter arrived.
– because it was there—our Mt. Everest.
We never formally identified the squealer who called the police, but the local constabulary turned up in the form of Skippy Brown, a favorite local enforcer of the law.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.
I did not want to be alone … so I looked for connections beyond the local.
Call it meant-to-be, fate, kismet, benign coincidence, or just plain good luck, I do not care.