Cleve Taylor
Bio
Published author of three books: Ricky Pardue US Marshal, A Collection of Cleve's Short Stories and Poems, and Johnny Duwell and the Silver Coins, all available in paperback and e-books on Amazon. Over 160 Vocal.media stories and poems.
Stories (164/0)
Dear Harper Family
Dear Harper Family, If I had written this a half century ago there would have been a chance that you might actually receive this letter of thanks. I have reflected many times over the past decades how you Connie Harper, your husband Clinton, and his brother Clifton and sister-in-law Myrtle Harper helped shape my life.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Education
Hoo's That
Hoo's That By Cleve Taylor David's heart was pounding in his chest and he was perspiring despite the sixty-degree weather. He had spent weeks surveilling the store and old Mr. Harrison's routine when he closed his Five and Ten Store on Saturdays at eight and walked his weekly deposit the two blocks to the night depository attached to the front of the First Mercantile Bank of Marion.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
Bezoar's Experiment
Bezoar's Experiment by Cleve Taylor It is 2034 on a tiny privately owned island off the coast of Belfast, Maine. The island houses the biocyber laboratory of CupolaBio Industries, a playground for the brilliant but psychotic billionaire cyber bio-engineer known simply as Bezoar, who uses the laboratory to indulge in his most exotic biocyber fantasies without government or peer interference or oversight. His areas of interest are bound only by his morals, and since he has no morals, he has no bounds.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
Kindness Repaid
Kindness Repaid It all began when a truck driver started to cross over the Chesapeake Bridge going west from Kent Island. It was night and the driver of an empty sixteen-wheeler was returning from dropping off a load of peat moss in Wilmington, Delaware, when he saw an owlet in his headlights. He braked before reaching the owlet, put on his emergency warning lights, got down from the cab of his truck, and moved the owlet out of harm's way.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
King for a Day
King for a Day by Cleve Taylor There was great excitement in the mouse colony. Horatio, who had led the mouse colony for three mouse generations, who had led the colony through treacherous fields fraught with danger when the colony had been forced from the Sugar Loaf barn to the Mt. Ephraim Rd. barn where they now thrived, was being challenged.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
The Kidnappers
The Kidnappers by Cleve Taylor Tyto and Alpa were trying to sleep. They were night owls, and last night was especially tiring because of the wind and the blowing rain that had swept in from the northwest and made flying and hearing more difficult. They had barely caught enough food to carry them for the day.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
Tyto and Alpa
Tyto and Alpa by Cleve Taylor Tyto slightly warped his wings turning him toward the tell-tale scratching sounds of a field mouse who sought sustenance among the soybean plants. Guided by sound in the black of the night, he clearly heard the rustling of the small creature that had no idea he had only seconds to live before he would contribute his body to the circle of life.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
I Hereby Resolve
I Hereby Resolve By Cleve Taylor Wow, 2021 has passed fast for me. I recognize that part of the reason time sped up is due to age. As an octogenarian I recognize that each new year represents an increasing percentage of the rest of my life, so those minutes, hours, days, months and years are incredibly important, and fly by far too fast. It is not like when I was a child and time slugged by at snail's pace and I was anxious to age and get on with my life. I expect 2022 to be the year of the hare.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Confessions
Rich's Christmas
Rich’s Christmas Letter Ten years ago I invited several friends to write about an early Christmas event. There were fewer interested parties than I had envisioned, so the project I had in mind fell apart. However, My friend Rich was one of the responders and I have kept it in my files. Christmas 2021 is quick upon us, and since Rich is now a victim of Parkinson’s disease and can’t do this for himself, I am posting it on vocal.media so that it may be shared with his family and friends. His story is in the form of a letter to his children.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Families
Just Relax
Just Relax by Cleve Taylor Myra lay in her bed drifting in and out of sleep with the sound of the trio streaming Music to Relax By from the television. She found the channel feature well named because all the music was recorded by three young women playing a cello, a piano, and an oboe. Much of the music consisted of single notes held for multiple chords like the ahmmmmmm of a chant but an occasional melody slipped in, particularly when the pianist was featured. This particular album was theorized, planned, and produced by Dr Melion Grabul of the Swiss College of Science in 1948 for his research on sleep disorders. The musicians were all advanced students at the Swiss Music Conservatory.
By Cleve Taylor 2 years ago in Fiction
Not Now I'm Writing
Not Now, I'm Writing by Cleve Taylor During the early months of the pandemic we hardly ever left the house. With two highly vulnerable people in the house, person to person contact was kept at a minimum. Food and household supplies were ordered online and left at our doorstep. A daughter found a fleeting supply of masks and sent some to us. My wife retreated into BritBox streaming video, and I continued my lifetime activity of reading, though more and more of my books were digital. Although the library brick and mortars were shuttered, it seemed like they double downed on digital offerings.
By Cleve Taylor 3 years ago in Journal
The Mourning After
The Mourning After by Cleve Taylor Jerald laid the white rose on Marilyn's grave in the Lake View Cemetery overlooking Carson Lake. The flat marker that she was allowed and her parents had ordered had not yet been installed, and only a small white card in a metal frame giving her name and date of death gave any indication that she had ever lived.
By Cleve Taylor 3 years ago in Fiction
