A Panster story continued “Bullshit. No way any of that is true”, I said. Maria took a deep breath and exhaled in a whisper “It’s true. All of it.” With no expression on her face, she turned and looked out the window once more. We sat at the table in…

A Panster Story (still continued) — Maria By the time Rosie called me, I was already on my way to my car. I took a big chance leaving the house. The neighbor has seen the old couple and maybe on to them. And may be on to me too. I drove to the coffee house. Rosie…

A panster story (continued) — The skunk juice proved to be too much for my clothes. No amount of washing could save them. A heavy-duty trash bag I tossed in the dumpster behind the Monster Cafe was their final resting place. I jumped in the shower. Still fresh, the cuts and scrapes on my face…

A Calm Theory — A tornado of thoughts, fears and worries creates chaos in my brain. My chest tightens. My head becomes dizzy. I walk outside and let the Sun kiss my face. She comforts me with her warm embrace. Eyes closed, I allow the Sun to shower my whole body with her rays. …

A panster flash fiction story… — They walk past my window every day. At around 9:00am, I see them stroll by. The elderly woman pushes her walker with the determination of a soldier. Her husband saunters. His long legs allow him to take slow steps and still remain slightly ahead of her. They walk past my…

Also known as summertime in Texas Hell. Is it a place or a state of mind? In Texas, it’s both during the months of July and August. Like the Hell fabled in the Bible, a Texas summer is also inescapable and unforgiving. For those of us who were born here…

Short answer: you grieve When a person you love ceases to exist, you suffer a loss. When a person you love ceases to exist in the way you once perceived him or her, you suffer the same loss. You’re left with only memories of who you thought they were. So…

….not in the way you think I have a secret life. A life my wife and kids don’t know about. It’s a life of writing on Medium (and some other platforms). They see me tap away at my keyboard but they ask no questions. None of them seem interested in…

A tribute to my mother Relief. It’s what I felt when Celia, my mother, died. Then I felt a sense of guilt because I felt no sadness- not immediately anyway. I was just relieved. I was relived knowing I would not have to avoid her phone calls or text messages…