John couldn’t breathe. He was stunned by what he reading. The details were too familiar, too fresh for the truth to be anything else. How could this be? He had always thought his marriage a happy one, but the anonymous blog on monitor in front of him was as plain as day:
www.ihatemymarriage.com
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Our final story of the weekend comes from mo cohen.
We crossed the security road just before midnight and took position about twenty meters from the border fence, eight boys all under twenty setting an ambush in the dark waiting for El-fatah terrorists to cross the wire. Someone coughed and we opened fire. Nineteen seconds and forty five hundred bullets later we were killer heroes.
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This morning’s story comes from Logan Kipp. Thanks, Logan!
The two held each other with a compassion that only childhood lovers could recall. As the moon rose high in the grey winter sky, He laid a gentle kiss upon her lips. Somehow, through their hectic lives, they found peace from the other.
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Our next story comes from Nick Light.
Dad, surviving war for 7 years, was home. Playing soccer with his boy was a great joy. Kicking the ball to his excited boy, it went off the side of his foot. Dad, laughing, ran into the street to get it. He didn’t look both ways. He didn’t see the car coming.
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Our first story of the weekend comes from regular contributor, Mort Ginsberg.
“Janet, I’ve had it! First the divorce, then a son on drugs and now a daughter pregnant out of wedlock. I’ve had enough. I just can’t take it anymore!”
“Joan, that’s terrible. What are you planning to do?”
“Janet, I’ve made up my mind. I’m taking action right now. I’m giving up soap operas!”
He took a drag on his cigarette and spit out the smoke. “I’m not goin’ back there. They can kiss my ass!”
“You’ll go back… and you know it.”
“No way… not after what they did!”
“Despite what they did. Your family has Mr. Vitrolli to thank for everything. This is the price of opportunity.”
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I was speechless. I knew this day would come eventually, and still I wasn’t ready for it. I thought there’d be some kind of build up, something that made the moment special; yet Christopher just popped the question one morning in between bites of Cap’n Crunch.
“So, how do babies get inside the mommy’s tummy?”
Tommy’s first week of kindergarten had been great. He had made a ton of new friends in class and at recess.
In the hall, waiting for the bus, a fourth-grader bumped into Tommy, knocking him down. “Oops… Sorry, kid.” As he walked away laughing Tommy realized that some people didn’t want to be friends.
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Our next story is from Seth Jordan.
click snap…click snap
“What was that?”, I nudged my wife next to me. “Nothing go back to sleep.”
click snap…click snap
“I am going to see what that is.”
click snap…click snap
Stepping out in the hall. I see my old typewriter. “Wait I destroyed…Oh God No!”
click snap…click snap
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Our first story of the weekend comes from Jorge Goyco.
Wolf was sure he had washed his hands before making the casserole. “I’m sorry folks,” he said to the violently heaving and convulsing group of animals. “It looks as though you’re all going to die.”
He looked at his hands as he deftly pivoted to miss a squirrel falling from a branch above.
“Guess not.”
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