Kenneth Lawson
Bio
Baby Boomer,Writer, Connoisseur of all things Classic: Movies, Television, Music, Vinyl, Cars, techonolgy
I write stories that bend genres and cross the boundries of time and space.
New Story every Month
Stories (51/0)
The Longwood Pot
The insurance recovery business has been slow lately, but I didn’t mind. It gave me time to indulge in other hobbies. The payout from the recovery of the Third Sister had put me in a new tax bracket, which hurt every April. But even that, I didn’t mind.
By Kenneth Lawson9 days ago in Fiction
What Comes Around...
The late afternoon sun was always deceiving. It always seemed warmer than it was. The weird shadows it cut on the snow belied the fact that it was bitter cold. As he trogged over light snow blanketed the ground, he steadied himself on one of the many bamboo trees in the forest. Random freak weather changes were nothing new, but this was one such act of nature he could live without. Reaching the far side of the stand of trees, the sun reflected on the open field leading to his destination.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a month ago in Fiction
What Comes Around...
The late afternoon sun was always deceiving. It always seemed warmer than it was. The weird shadows it cut on the snow belied the fact that it was bitter cold. As he trogged over light snow blanketed the ground, he steadied himself on one of the many bamboo trees in the forest. Random freak weather changes were nothing new, but this was one such act of nature he could live without. Reaching the far side of the stand of trees, the sun reflected on the open field leading to his destination.
By Kenneth Lawson2 months ago in Fiction
Unfinished Business
My footsteps echoed in the empty hall as I walked through the school. If I listened closely, I could hear the sounds of students and teachers rushing through the corridors. The bang of a locker door would punctuate the roar of talking and the yelling of the students as they tried to navigate the halls and learn about life. It had been decades since I’d been here—four to be exact.
By Kenneth Lawson4 months ago in Fiction
The Healing Power of Coffee and Time
He sat on the edge of the bed and pondered many things as he always did in the morning. Most were the same thoughts that always rattled in his head while other random thoughts came and went. The smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen brought him out of his reprieve. He had learned to set the pot on automatic for just this reason. He debated for a second whether to ignore the call of warm black coffee.
By Kenneth Lawson4 months ago in Fiction
Crown Orders
The 603 was late. I didn’t blame them one bit. The sudden, unexpected winter snow had played havoc with everything. But I’d made it. The train pulled up to the station and slowed down, and I scanned the driveways to the station, looking for a dark green Land Rover.
By Kenneth Lawson4 months ago in Fiction
The Plan
It was usual to see a red park bench. Much less under some trees next to a stream. But there it was. The park appeared deserted. This was where they said to meet. I pulled the note from my pocket and glanced at it again, then shoved it back in my pocket.
By Kenneth Lawson4 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - January 2024
The Bewitched SyndromeTop Story - January 2024
One sits in front of a blank computer screen and wishes the words would just magically appear on it. If one could only twitch a “Bestselling American Novel.” But alas, the only person who could twitch a novel into existence was Samantha from the TV show “Bewitched.”
By Kenneth Lawson5 months ago in Writers
The Pages of Time
Pinecones mixed with the smoky scent of wood, snapping and cracking in the fireplace, filled the room with the heady aroma of pine. The sun's glare bounced off the Christmas tree's ornaments, causing chaotic reflections to bounce over the room. Christmas existed in full force within the room.
By Kenneth Lawson5 months ago in Fiction
The Third Sister
A lazy breeze wandered through the street. Plants and flowers barely moved, and the pink umbrellas strung up between the buildings for shade fluttered peaceable in the summer air. I sat at the end of the empty street at a small round table and sipped a latte. The crema had long since given up its shape and blended into the coffee.
By Kenneth Lawson6 months ago in Fiction
