Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock
Bio
Retired Ordained Elder in The United Methodist Church having served for a total of 30 years in Missouri, South Dakota & Kansas.
Born in Watertown, SD on 9/26/1959. Married to Sandra Jellison-Knock on 1/24/1986. One son, Keenan, deceased.
Stories (116/0)
Marge's Requiem
If their bull terrier couldn’t leave him, neither could Marge. Teri remained curled up facing him, occasionally licking his hand, sniffing around his neck & head, or trying to nuzzle her way under his arm. Marge just held onto him, rubbing his back & side as though it might somehow restore his life, & letting her tears roll off her cheeks, drenching the bed.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Where Have All the Pear Trees Gone?
Carson awoke with a sufficiently severe migraine that he knew immediately he was too sober to face the day. He wasn’t sure what he needed to do first, however: pour another scotch or turn off the… he couldn’t think of curse words bad enough for the blanking alarm boring through his skull which had finally awakened him. It wasn’t his alarm clock because he knew he hadn’t set it. So, he decided on the scotch until he could figure out from what part of the room the noise was coming.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Bottom of the Pond
Clarisse looked out the kitchen window as she washed the dishes. Seth was at work, the kids were in school & she had the day off, just looking for things to keep busy. Across the drive they had a big pond she normally thought was beautiful—a nice island in the middle with an arched, stained wooden bridge crossing over to it, two fountains to keep the water clean, aerated & fresh, a variety of trees shading the banks (including a weeping willow on the island with three sets of alternating picnic tables & benches around its base), and a variety of fish ranging from catfish to perch, sunfish & walleye. There was a rope tied to a tree limb where the kids (&, let’s face it, mom & dad, too) could swing out over the water & either jump or dive in (they kept that part of the pond especially deep & free of rocks & debris with regular dredging).
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Pennificence
Penny knew that Ralph should be home with the kids by the time she got there. He had arranged his schedule so that all this school year he got done with work at three in the afternoon so he could pick them up. He also took them to school in the morning. He was pretty much kid-erific—strict, but also a lot of fun. He had boundaries to keep them safe, doing well in school, & playing nicely with others. But within those boundaries he allowed for a lot of wiggle-room. He rarely got rattled with them.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Murray's Reprieve
Murray made it home last night before the storm hit. Their bull terrier met him at the door, as was her custom, anxious for a pat on the head & a scratching of her back. They’d named her Teri—not very imaginative, but who needs creativity when you’re happy & content? Marge had prepared one of his favorite meals: fresh homemade lefse, potatis korv, lightly glazed carrots, hot German potato salad, with rosettes covered in powdered sugar for dessert.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
A Cartridge in a Bare Tree
Leah was on her phone as Perry walked out of the bathroom, still drying his hair. He’d just finished taking a shower & had nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his waist. She had the phone pressed to her ear, intent upon listening, hoping that Corbin would finally pick up, & so hadn’t noticed his meager attire.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
“Pond’s® Really Cold Cream”
If there’s one thing a big blizzard is good for, it’s sleeping through the afternoon. There’s no need for blackout curtains, white noise machines or any other sleep aid. Heather could attest to that. It was already a quarter past five & she had not so much as stirred since Patrick had put her to bed earlier that morning. Now she needed a bathroom.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Green Lights Turning to Yellow
Carson watched as Murray left the building. He knew that Murray didn’t like him & that was okay. He wasn’t there to be liked. He was there to get things done & make things happen. But he wasn’t sure Murray respected him either, & that could be a problem.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Another Load of Bull
The sound of the sheet of paper being ripped from the typewriter’s platen brought him back to the present moment—though he wasn’t at all sure how he’d gotten there. Corbin had no memory of rolling the paper or typing to begin with, he only knew that he had done it. For that matter, he didn’t remember typing the few pages upon which he now placed this one.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction