Tim Hearne
Bio
I am a builder in southeastern North Carolina. I took a creative writing class when I was 18 in community college and never really stopped. These are a collection of things I’ve written over the last 10 years.
Stories (4/0)
Hot Nuts
A foreword to the reader: this hilariously unfortunate story is dynamically better when I tell it in person, and I would like to take this moment to apologize in advance that you are not here to hear me tell it. I hope you get half as much enjoyment from words on the page than the scores of individuals before you who have laughed and simultaneously wept heartily while being held fully captive to my whimsical diatribe. I dedicate this in memory of Dr. John Ayers, a good doctor and better friend.
By Tim Hearne3 years ago in Confessions
I never tasted Merlot
The flight to Denver was almost unbearable. Previously, I had somehow managed to walk 18 holes alone, despite skipping the last 4, while working up a considerable sweat for a balmy March morning in North Carolina, panting heavily and nervous about potentially missing my Raleigh connection because I just HAD to stop and play that short par 3 on 16, guzzled down an unhealthy amount of Chick Fila French fries in the back seat of my uncle’s F-250 and panic bought $500 worth of GameStop stock only to watch it plummet immediately upon purchase, all in the name good old fashioned American greed, and all this just moments before I was to chuck my out of shape and inexperienced frame over a 13,000 foot snowy mountain the ski world knows simply as “Breckinridge.”
By Tim Hearne3 years ago in Humans
Lost and Found
“DE-DE-DE-De...de-deet...DE-DE-DE-De...de-deet...” for once in my life, the painfully startling screech of the iPhone alarm didn’t even phase me. I had been awake for some time now. In fact I had been waiting for it to wake me up from what had to be a dream. I deliberately swiped away the usually monotonous yet always ill timed notification in one swift motion, my eyes not breaking stride from my highly illuminated phone screen lighting up my motionless, yet engaged best 5:30 am face. Was this a joke? Did the IRS make a mistake? For the last hour I had been perusing through my online bank statements trying to make sense of the fact that there was now suddenly a $20,000 deposit into my account that was not there yet 6 hours ago.
By Tim Hearne3 years ago in Humans
Cape Hatteras
It is ironic that, as I cross over the Alligator River about noontime, I happen to be reading a chapter from the journal of Herbert Hutchinson Brimley entitled: “Cape Hatteras in Storm and Shine.” I glance away from the page for a moment to assess the outside conditions-rainy, windy, a scene that had a certain dismal look to it, and I conclude that Mr. Brimley probably had more experience with the former attributes discussed rather than the latter regarding this particular chapter. After a quick dip in a surprisingly docile ocean, the rain begins to fall as I make my way to dinner.
By Tim Hearne3 years ago in Wander
