J Bradley Burt
Bio
I'm a graduate of York University and the Ryerson School of Journalism.
In addition to having published seven novels and six collections of tales, I write regularly at---www.tallandtruetales.blog
I live with my wife in Florida and Ontario.
Stories (8/0)
The Brave Little Girl In The Cabin
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." I was talking in a mysterious, husky whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the campfire. The two girls were leaning forward in their toddler-sized camp-chairs, already hooked on the story they’d begged me to tell before bedtime.
By J Bradley Burt16 days ago in Fiction
A Titanic Blunder
The lad who would become my Grandfather Smythe was five years old when the Titanic hoisted anchor at the south Irish port of Queenstown on that fateful day in 1912. On the docks in his mother’s arms to wave farewell to his father, a stoker for the mighty White Star Line, he never did see him---the poor bloke being belowdecks, shoveling coal into the boilers.
By J Bradley Burt3 months ago in Fiction
Didn't Miss Nothin'!
The prospective assassin opened the window wide, felt the noon heat wash over him. Although he knew it was ready, he checked the rifle yet again, more by feel than actually looking at it. The gun was as familiar in his hands as the contours of his wife’s back. Concealed behind a pile of cardboard boxes he’d stacked in front of the window that morning, he realized he was remarkably calm. Only a slight tremor in his fingers betrayed a sense of excitement, or maybe fear.
By J Bradley Burt3 months ago in Fiction
Going Beddy-Bye
For the better part of seventy-eight years, I’ve gone beddy-bye every night---but I’ve been alone for only the first twenty-three of those. In those early years, I slept atop an inexpensive mattress, twin-bed size, identical to the one occupied by my brother.
By J Bradley Burt6 months ago in Confessions
Now He's Yours
A few years ago, our grandson made a new friend. Although quite small at the time, only nine or ten months old, he was nevertheless much bigger than his friend---a small barn-owl, crocheted by Nana, stuffed with cotton-fill, and quickly christened Barney.
By J Bradley Burt6 months ago in Families
Now He's Yours
A few years ago, our grandson made a new friend. Although quite small at the time, only nine or ten months old, he was nevertheless much bigger than his friend---a small barn-owl, crocheted by Nana, stuffed with cotton-fill, and quickly christened Barney.
By J Bradley Burt6 months ago in Families
