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)
Murray's Gall
Murray was upset, but he had to admit there wasn’t much choice. Margins were slim, they were going to need to cut staff, & Corbin just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Mistakes on his reports, work not getting done, coming in late, leaving early, the number of sick days…. Murray liked the guy—everyone seemed to like the guy—& he’d done what he could to cover for him. But these past few months he’d been spiraling deeper & deeper into some dark place Murray just couldn’t understand.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Rising from the Ice
It took Corbin a little while to remember where he was & what was happening around him. When he had first opened his eyes—or at least thought he had—everything was dark..., & his head hurt. But he seemed to be sitting up, blanketed for the most part in something wet & cold. He reached beside him & felt another seat covered in frozen, cracked vinyl. Fumbling around he found his set of keys, a pair of gloves, flashlight & what he guessed was a headrest.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Red Light, Green Light
There wasn’t much traffic on the streets. A few people making their last run to the grocery store for whatever supplies they could still find on the shelves. Otherwise, it seemed most of the town was settling in & shutting down for the next few days. It seemed foolish to be sitting at an empty intersection waiting for the light to turn green, but there they were.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
That's a Load of Bull
Patrick stood in the doorway to their bedroom watching her at the window. She looked so serene as the streetlamp below cast shadows of falling snow across her face & gown like some sort of inverse snow globe. He knew that it was an illusion, at best a meditative distraction from what had kept her up all night. Still, he treasured any reprieve, no matter how brief, from the thoughts which had tormented her these past few years & which remained as a constant barrier between the two of them.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
We're Gulden
Perry thought about how far he’d come in just six months. Fresh out of college, brand new job, & now he had a date with Leah. They had reservations at a nice restaurant after work. It would be “go as you are” because of the storm that had been forecast, but it was still a date. Every relationship had to begin somewhere.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Hopelessly Peared
It was the beginning of their freshman year in college, out on the quad, under the pear tree where the table for aspiring thespians sat. He’d signed up for set design, maybe a little acting. When he turned around & saw her, he looked nervous. It was cute the way he couldn’t seem to find his words, then looked down &, seeing the pencil in his hands, offered it to her.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
On Frozen Pond
Corbin had been watching the clouds for the last forty-five minutes as they gradually darkened over the mountain peaks. He knew a system was moving in & that storms were expected by evening, but he had hoped to reach the cabin before they hit. He was close—only seventeen miles to go—but the road from here would be narrow & winding, with frequent steep drops off the shoulder, & the freezing drizzle had begun.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Pinky-Swear
This is my retelling of a story I first heard in January of 1980 in the back of a Suburban as I was trying to get some sleep. We were just setting out on our Yankton College choir tour heading to Gackle, North Dakota. The Dakotas, January, 331 miles, five & a half hours—you’ve got the picture, right? I didn’t get any sleep.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Fiction
Spare Me the Nematodes, Redux
Tagetes. Possibly from the founding prophet or god of Etruscan religion, Tages, who according to mythology, is supposed to have leapt from a deep furrow left by a ploughman. Described as having the appearance of youth but the wisdom of sages, he taught the people to predict the future through divination.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Pride