
A sketch of an endangered animal. The name escapes me

A sketch of an endangered animal. The name escapes me

John looked out his front window.
“John, what are you doing”
“I’m looking over at the Walter’s house.”
“Why?”
“I was over talking to Biil the other day. He’s been laid off from his job for a while…” John glanced back across the street. “The money is getting tight and he doesn’t know how he is going to make ends meet.”
John looked at his wife Gloria. “I’ve got an idea,” She left for a few moments then came back. “I made some calls.”
A little while later a car pulled up at the Walter’s and left some boxes.

Mr owl is a simple pencil drawing on white paper.

He held in his hands the dying roses. The last remnants of a life and love gone by. He slowly moved from where he stood and walked towards the grave stone. It was only a couple days before he stood here, tears streaming down his cheek as the pastor made his way through the service. Now he was back to bring her the last of her favorite flower, red roses. The roses were wilting but he knew she would’ve still loved them.
“Good bye dear. We had 50 good years. I will miss you.”
He turned and shuffled off.
An original parable based on Romans 12:21
— Read on hubpages.com/religion-philosophy/Peter-a-parable
A recent article and short story.

A small Blue Jay drawing done in pencil and soft pastels.

Joe looked at Death.
Death looked back at Joe. “You’re early.”
Joe stood there a few more moments trying to take in the vision before him. He’d never seen death before but he always a preconceived vision of death in his mind: a tall skeletal figure in a black robe carrying a sickle. The creature or person in front of him was dressed like Michael Jackson and had a normal looking face topped by blond hair. He also was sans sickle.
“You’re Death?”
“The one and only. But I’m not expecting you for another…almost gave away your deathday.”

A quick sketch of a lion watching its prey.

The lonely cane leans against the wall. Waiting, waiting, for the owner to return. The cane misses its daily walk, sometimes to the park, others time to the falls. The owner has been gone so long . The cane wonders of his return. So it just sits and waits patiently.
“Dad, what do I do with the cane?”
“Bring it along son, maybe I’ll keep it to remember him by…maybe not.”
The lonely canes moves on.