Cindy Read
Bio
I am Cindy, noting more and nothing less. Dichotomy describes me best. I love to create; and I love the sciences. I have a wild spirit that has calmed. I was born in Canada, but live in the USA and flit between. I am the Yin & the Yang.
Stories (5/0)
The Runaway Train
“This guy is incredible!” roared the announcer. “He has out skated everyone on the ice, he’s headed towards the net; there is only 3 seconds left, can he make it?” The announcer continues, “He pulls his stick back……he hammers the puck, Oh no…..”
By Cindy Readabout a year ago in Fiction
Flying Barn Pilots
William was 94 years old and lived in Upstate New York, with his son and daughter in law and their three children. The family took care of the farm and the old barn that William had inherited from his father John in 1991. William spent his life on the farm, after marrying his high school sweetheart Judy. They raised their two children, and then cared for his ageing parents. Judy passed away fifteen years ago. The family spent their life working the farm and used the old red barn as a gathering place for people that loved the classical planes of the 1920s. His father John, loved airplanes and shared that love with William and then William’s sons. They specialized in old relics, such as the Caustic JN-4, commonly known as the Jenny. Yearly shows were held at their old barn, utilizing the old barnstorming tricks, such as the loop-the-loops, pulling spins or barrel rolls. The red barn was home to a club called the Flying Barn Pirates that shared their love of airplanes and stories back in the day, when pilots flew wild, before flight plans, flying lessons or even radar.
By Cindy Read2 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday
Sonya Reiki regained consciousness, in a cave far beneath the earth’s surface. She was hot, sweaty, sore and scared. She instinctively reached for her heart shaped locket, that she wore around her neck ever since she received it from Joel, on the day she gave birth to their son, Justin. She remembered that her thermoregulatory suit covered the locket and she wasn’t able to feel it’s warmth. For a brief moment she laid motionless and thought of her son and husband, remembering good times that had passed. She cherished the simple memories and a tear escaped, leaving a trail in her ash covered face.
By Cindy Read2 years ago in Fiction
Garden Scissors
Happiness is relative to the person experiencing the emotion. What is common about happiness is that it is fleeting and can be measure on a scale, such as a Likert scale. Not that I imagine that many of us go around thinking of rating our happiness from one to ten. The confusion with happiness is that it surreptitiously moves in and out of our daily lives. Some people believe that they must feel happy all the time or something is wrong. For me, happiness is what I make of it, meaning that my actions create my happiness. If I sit too long without something to keep my vivid and creative mind growing, I find less happiness. Sometimes that inertia opens the window to sadness or negative thoughts. When I am growing, learning and creating I am happy. The most important thing that I have found about happiness, is that, too much of any of these things, reduces the level of happiness on the Likert scale. Variety is my secret for a happy life and always remembering that happiness is not a constant. Live in the moment and be grateful for the happy times.
By Cindy Read2 years ago in Motivation
