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Mack D. Ames
Bio
Educator & writer in Maine, USA. Real name Bill MacD, partly. Mid50s. Dry humor. Emotional. Cynical. Sinful. Forgiven. Thankful. One wife, two teen sons, one male dog. Baritone. BoSox fan. LOVE baseball, Agatha Christie, history, & Family.
Stories (46/0)
Dear John Letter. Content Warning.
Dear John, For more than 40 years, that sneaky move you made on me has plagued me. We haven't seen one another for many decades, but the agony has not gone away. Were we to meet and talk, you would probably have no memory of that, but my trajectory changed permanently, and not for the better.
By Mack D. Ames16 days ago in Psyche
Is Revival Always Good?
Hampson was a quaint village in the heart of eastern Maine, far from the hustle and bustle of economic activity and tourism that created enthusiasm for residents. "You can't get there from here" is a popular phrase among Mainers everywhere, but it was especially true of Hampson. It didn't seem to be connected to anything. However, it was just large enough to have an elementary and middle school, and whatever social activities could be found in the town happened there.
By Mack D. Amesabout a month ago in Fiction
Deadly Dreams. Content Warning.
John Weston was the wildest son of a gun you could ever meet as far as I was concerned. At age 19, he could out-hunt, fish, wrestle (thumb, arm, or on the mat), and drink any other man in our county. I wouldn't call him impulsive, but he had a short fuse. He did not suffer fools gladly, and it didn't take long for one (or more) to earn a challenge from John to shut up, get out, or fight. As quick as he was to mix it up, though, when the matter was settled to his satisfaction, he'd stop the fight and move on with his life. "No need to humiliate anyone, Billy," he'd say to me. "Just prove your point."
By Mack D. Amesabout a month ago in Confessions
Arrested by Necessity. Top Story - May 2024.
Do you have a favorite place to visit when you're overwhelmed by your thoughts? Do you get overwhelmed by your thoughts? I suppose not everyone experiences the paralyzation that occurs when too many decisions creep in. I get knots in my (ample) stomach that twist and turn into cramps. Within minutes, my pulse increases and I force myself to remain calm, but anxiety starts poking at my chest like a toddler attempting to wake his papa for a snack. The cause of my tension is lost by this time, and my focus turns to slowing my breathing, "staying present in the moment," and remembering where I am and why.
By Mack D. Ames2 months ago in Men
Don't Blink
Carl and Jeni saved and scrimped for years to afford a small sailboat for days like this. When they met their senior year of high school, they didn't like each other at first, but their friend groups collided regularly. Eventually, they began to see each other in gracious light. Begrudging civility advanced to the talking stage in time for graduation, and they spent the summer working at a local golf course as their friendship threatened to blossom into something more.
By Mack D. Ames3 months ago in Fiction
Eclipsed
Even Cancer Lies In Prolapsed Silence Eventually
By Mack D. Ames3 months ago in Poets
Phillips & Sanderson
Scott sat in his period three biology class and tapped his pen impatiently on the textbook in front of him. Tap tap tap, tap-tap taap, tap-tap taap. In his mind, he was picturing Darth Vader striding to the command center of the Imperial Death Star while the soundtrack played in time with the pen taps. None of his classmates had any idea of this, of course, and they shot dark looks at his annoying noises. He was oblivious until his friend Mark tossed an eraser in his face.
By Mack D. Ames4 months ago in Fiction
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