Is James Herndon my father? This story has it’s roots in post war Germany 10 years after the war to end all wars. My mother was a student at Heidelberg, my adaptive father was an Army translator, and my biological father a (as told to me by my mother) was the author, James Herndon. http://en.wikipedia.org/……
So came the day when two Titans Roamed the Earth: Evil incarnate: AKA “The Jackal”, AKA “Lizzerd” had laid waste to everything- including the waste itself… (Hmmm) The Jackal Meets: Elroy The Onslaught is Furious… The crows are gathering as the Jackal has the upper hand… But Wait ! From the Edge of Despair ……
Typical mismatch of a slightly dim, intellectually unburnished schoolyard bully and his evil twin handler, patrolling the schoolyard in the late afternoon, trolling for stragglers and easy pick en’s.
And then there was the local posse. A rat pack of toss-a-way’s, sidelined rocketeers, that had been waylaid by a 1960’s hangover, survived for another go around 10 years later, and somehow walked away from an irreversible tail spin to end up in the same carousel I had by an urge of fate declared my home.
I crossed the street because I was afraid. I was afraid to walk past this man in a black weather torn leather jacket who was with another woman, and a tall lanky dark tanned Indian, all three kind of sprawled on someone’s front lawn, with their feet visiting the pavement. The man in particular had…
His throat moved. It wasn’t that it changed, it just quivered a bit, and I took another sip of chicken soup at the kitchen table after I had seen it. It was the oddest reflection not in a mirror, that as a child seemed so simplistic. It was like looking at a quick rewind of…
Unwritten Feathers 