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Viewing 1 - 7 out of 7 Blogs.
I Said, She Said
“A quiet guy? Davis? Not on your life. He’s a regular Machinegun Kelly of verbiage. Ain’t that right, Pete?â€
“He’s always talking about something, except when you’re on the bus; you bring out his inner mime.â€
“Oh I like that, Bernie. High-five me.â€
“Sore elbow, Pete. Rain-check it on account.â€
“On account of what?â€
“My sore elbow. Weren’t you listening?â€
“So gentlemen … Davis has a difficult time talking to women?â€
“Women? No. The ‘Goddess of Love?’ Yes.â€
“You’re on fire today, Bernie. Low-five me and I’ll buy you lunch.â€
“You’re speaking to me now, Pete. But it better be more than a soft pretzel; that ain’t lunch. Here’s our stop.â€
“Goddess of Love? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s how Davis refers to me?â€
“No. That’s our little nickname for you. Here’s our stop. Take care, Goddess. My turn to feed Bernie this week. Hey Bernie, it’s your lucky day … two pretzels. Knock the salt off mine and give this guy a large diet-something to drink.â€
I Said, She Said James F. Ross 2013
Tags: "I Said, She Said"
I Said, She Said
Were she an instrument, I'd know how to conduct myself. I might be old and alone but I'm not a fool. Clearly, she has no need for anyone. There is an outside chance, however — and I'm talking haven't-left-the-gate outside chance — that she might be a woman who wants, rather than needs, someone. Just maybe ... I'll keep my head down, close my eyes, and count to ten. If she says hello, that'll be a sign there's interest. Eight, nine, nine-and-a-half ... ten. Oh good God, she's vanished. "Pete, what happened to the lady who was sitting there?"
Gone. Got off at the last stop. Told us to be mindful of you. Looked like you were meditating. Nice woman. You should say hello sometime.
"I should say hello? I gave her the ten count."
Never give a woman like her the ten count; she'll be gone before you get to five-and-three-quarters.
I Said, She Said
James F. Ross
2013
I Said, She Said
I’ve been talking nonstop since you sat down. “Really? That’s the quietest conversation I’ve never had. I hope I was somewhat attentive.†You have a knack for interjecting just as I am finishing a thought. “You mean like right now?†Uncanny timing. “Maybe one day we’ll have a real conversation.†Maybe. Not likely. Gotta go; this is my stop. “Stop? It’s a vacant lot.†It won’t be for long… I Said, She SaidJames F. Ross
2013
http://writejames.wordpress.com
Tags: Writing
Harmony of The Twelve...
One string, then another. A random manipulation to many; there is however, rhyme and intention for good measure. My guitar sings to me; while I'm playing, and at other times when I give pretense to considering the merits of chasing after an impromptu diversion; which is more than anything else, an answer to unspoken prayer for relief. A soothing balm like no other; the harmony of the twelve never disappoints.
James F. Ross 2013
http://writejames.wordpress.com
“Sometimes the mind and spirit unexpectedly pass through a narrow into the world beyond, leaving the body behind to wander. Gradually, without their influence, it becomes … confused. No longer recognizing this world, it will begin to speak nonsense and behave unreasonably. Rather than appear foolish, silence and inactivity are embraced; seeking comfort, a repetitive nature emerges. In due course, the body passes on from this realm into the next, reuniting with mind and spirit. On that day, all will receive a blessing.â€
~ The Desert Sun – Life In Motion ~
James F. Ross
Tags: Writing Novel
A Slow-Dance of Radiant Splendor
Another day. Nothing different than the previous, or the yester-one before that. Complacency weighs heavy–even more so when realized. But like the color gray, it fairs better in hope’s light than din’s despair. The morning brew sloshes well with the last pot’s remains. The blend has a more pungent aroma than usual. The discolored linen window dressing, once a vibrant oyster-shell white, adds to the overall drab dullness of the room. The light is more than adequate, but has not yet made a grand entrance. Shadows are on the move. Plenty of time though to ponder the mystical elixir warming my mug and the front and center still-life. Without much of a warning, a notion interrupts my solitude but is respectfully considered, gradually developing into a possibility. It feels like … yellow. No. Yes. No. Thumb-and-finger, knead and purl under my nose–my suspicions confirmed. Yes. There is no doubt … definitely feels like yellow. But there is an overwhelming scent of blue that must not be ignored. Sunrise light commands the room and transforms the canvas into a brilliantly lit stage. This is my world: a colorful expression, a sanctuary. Each night, I dream myself to sleep. From memory alone, a moment framed in time, brushed onto this canvas with gentle caring strokes of love. We renew our last conversation. Perhaps this time, with a steady hand, I will create a slow-dance of radiant splendor. If not, I will begin again tomorrow. Another day, not much different than yesterday … or the one before.
James F. Ross 2013
I am privileged to announce that my fantastic friend and writing partner, Mandy Maxfield Howe, and I released today our first novelette for Kindle on Amazon. Mandy is an excellent editor, writer, and photographer.
The novelette, I Am Flying, is the first volume in a series we will be adding to quarterly; The Bench. Our work continues on The Desert Sun Saga, and are on scheduled to release Life In Motion this coming autumn. Link to Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Am-Flying-The-Bench-ebook/dp/B008LH94FG/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1342364286&sr=1-3&keywords=I+Am+Flying
Summary/Description
“How is it that I’m aware of the world, but unaware to the world?†Typically, a life well-lived is abundant with rewards. While enjoying a carefree childhood, an enriching academic career, and crafting memories with his precious Marie, Martin Connor never took anything for granted. Grasping every moment, he shared his reflections on film, canvas, and through his memoirs. Years later, Marie has passed on; Connor is disconcerted to find himself alone, and his life meticulously packed away in stacks of cardboard boxes. Diagnosed with a terminal condition, each ocean sunset observed is a reminder of his physical and mental frailty, as well as a rapidly deteriorating quality of life. Irritated by an unmindful social worker, and degraded by a draconian assisted living administrator, Connor grows weary of a world that has forgotten him. Guided by a philosophy often shared with his students that, ultimately, each of us is responsible for our own peace of mind, Connor surrounds himself in comfort and makes clandestine preparations for leaving. “i am flying†is the first novelette in “The Bench†series, and chronicles Dr. Martin Connor’s journey as he takes the necessary steps to live out his final days on his own terms.
Tags: Book Novelette Amazon
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