Larry Berger
Bio
Larry Berger, world traveler, with 20 children and grandchildren, collected his poems and stories for sixty years, and now he winds up the rubber bands of his word drones and sends them to obliterate the sensibilities of innocent readers.
Stories (13/0)
Before Hand and After Words
I have accumulated many trade skills during my lifetime. I have been the quintessential handyman, a carpenter, a plumber, an electrician, laid carpet, done tile work, roofing, landscaping, and been a painter. I’ve won first prize in the county fair with one of my sculptures. I’ve hitchhiked around the world and lived in communes. I’ve been a businessman and a bartender in downtown Chicago. I did my stint in the Marine Corps and sailed half way around the world, been a sailor and owned seven boats, been a merchant and owned two book stores, delivered my seven children at home, and home schooled them all until high school.
By Larry Berger2 years ago in Journal
Dream Girl
I was having one of those days when the sprites keep moving in and out of your peripheral vision but you can never quite catch one. Interrupted from my work by movement outside the window I found myself staring at the trees in thoughtless distraction. I had an urge to line things up and closing one eye I shifted in my chair until two trees lined perfectly with the window stile. Then I arranged all the things on my desk in secret geometric patterns and looked out the window again. This time the light and shadows were pulsating, the air full of molecules. I closed my eyes and fooled around with the light and dark after-images for a while. Passing clouds changed the contrasts.
By Larry Berger2 years ago in Fiction
Encounters With the Wind
I distinctly remember a blustery winter day when I was a boy and the wind, according to the radio reports, was gusting to seventy miles per hour. It was exhilarating fun to be out in it, out away from the house and trees, out in a field, and leaning into the wind's dynamic power, balancing at rakish angles with my arms spread, in a small way defying gravity.
By Larry Berger2 years ago in Journal
The Plight of Tucker Thompson
Millie Thompson hung her apron on a peg by the hearth. Her husband, Jake, knelt before the continual fire, prodding the logs with an iron poker, coaxing more warmth for the snowy winter evening. He added a small locust log, and flames curled around it and into the flue.
By Larry Berger2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - August 2022
One Brave IndianTop Story - August 2022
I was on my way to mail a letter to a friend. It was a depressing letter, hand written or more accurately, scribbled, an obligatory reply to an encouraging communication in the other direction. A ‘thanks, but no thanks’ with all the depressing factors most anyone could concoct from a morose perspective on their lives. I had described all the reasons for my dismal failures of late, blamed everyone I could for every deficit I could account to them, and then concluded with a Psalmic reference to urge the reader to pray and not call the suicide hotline on my behalf. But something turned me aside on my path to the post office.
By Larry Berger2 years ago in Fiction
