William L. Truax III
I am a father of two, Girl 15 current 2021 and Boy 12 current 2021. Going fifteen plus years with their mother and I could not imagine my life any different. Despite my Short Military Service in the Marine Corps, I am disabled in Head/Body
Waking up was a rough patch this morning, I felt a pressure on my body that I was starting to get used to. It was like the gods were wanting me to show how angry I could get today. Though thus far I have illuded the idea of anger, but at the same time, I want to give into it. There has been little feel that I could ever change the way that I want to.
Soothing the Beast
Heart, your heart, it beats strong in one’s chest, bringing to life not only you, but all around you. I don’t feel that. It appears the idea that all will be okay, however in the thick of things, you, I, find us lost. Unsure of oneself, unsure and unaware that noting means something different than what you intended. You search for answers in the bottom of Jim Bean, but the bottom become two or more, you take a long drag off the blunt you roll, but the problem is there when you get down.
Depression and Music
The room is black in the early morning hours while I rise from my bedroom and walk out into the hallway. It is cream white and the hallway (like the rest of the house) has a smell of sage from my wife burning her Sage Incense the night before that has wafted through the rest of the house. As I enter the living room I notice the remaining stick sticking out of the long wooden holder. I open the cabinet where the remaining sage sticks were, I grab and light one. Then, as I turn toward the table across from me, I grab from the bag a handful of Sage and place it in a conch shell, light it and begin to smudge and cleanse my home after smudging myself first.
How I Rise
How I Rise Nearly every morning is the same, dull, dreadful and a pain to rise from the behind the covers. Though lately I have been getting myself up eagerly awaiting my day. Turning on the lights at 0500 and I feel like coffee will not due, just because I drink it every day without delay. I walk the baren hallway and dodge the A/C grate in the center. My wooden floors cool against my black comfy socks, I wake my son for school. He slept in the living room on the new extremely comfortable furniture we just recently received from Farmers Furniture.
THE CREATION OF THE EARTH
THE CREATION OF THE EARTH (As was passed to me) (A YUCHI STORY) In the beginning the waters covered everything. It was said "Who will make the land appear?"
The Red Suspenders
The Red Suspenders (as it was told to me) Some names in this true story have been altered to save embarrassment * One of my first teaching job out of college was something else. More than thirty years later it is still talked about. I took a job at a little country school in a rural North Florida county--you know the type, about 30 miles beyond sunset--the kind of place where the school board member, with his third-grade education, wanted to hire Perry Mason to represent them. When the time change came each year, you set your watch back one hour and one century. Good hearted folks mostly but trying to work with that school board was kind of like trying to herd cats with a stick while calling a square dance for hippos--you just cannot do it. Ah yes, but there was some good times, too. To this day, I can take credit for really introducing a few country kids to the real joys of learning, researching and clear thinking. One of them, let us not call his name, though its David, is the Superintendent of Education down there now--doing an exceptionally fine job, too.
House of SIN
As the police arrived at her door, the corpse that she kept under her bed was starting to wiggle, squirm and generally move about without any notice. She had her fun with it, yes, she did, but now it was dead, though she could clearly see it moving. What was it? How was it moving. She had played with him all night long, but it had not even blinked an eye, now it is acting like it wants to get up and dance.
The room was blue, a pale blue and the man sitting there in the chair in the back corner of the room was worried that he was not going to be believed, that his story was not good enough to free him from the bonds that bind him. He sat there cuffed to the table, the metal table made a clinging noise like a pot falling on a linoleum floor. The sound was the only thing that was heard. There was no one entering the room from the door on the right, his sight limited to one hundred eighty degrees, where if he were able to spin there would be something more. There was however an open window on the left with bars dropping down on the remaining three. Why was the window open? He thought. But there too, he was awaiting an answer from someone.