You’re My Friend, John.

You’re my friend, John. You’re my friend.

I remember when I found you, you were skin and bones. And just as pathetic as me. I kicked at you, and yelled “go away!” Instead, you wagged your little tail, so I fed you crumbs. My last crumbs. Then a woman gave me a five dollars, while I was petting you. I bought us more crumbs, and we had ourselves a fair deal.

So many cold nights we hugged each other. I would hold you like a baby, as you whimpered into my chest. I promised we would survive, and I kept my promise. We ate crumbs.

I don’t know where you are now, but I know we’ll be fine.
You’re still my friend John. You’re still my friend.

~~Photo & Story by Ian Russell

Happy Birthday!

      Little Billy hated Halloween. He was born on Halloween, and the kids never wanted to celebrate, because they’d rather Trick or Treat. And his mother thought it was okay to take him Trick or Treating, instead of buying him a cake! And this Halloween was no better… She bought him some lame Skeleton costume, with a boring, plastic skull mask that pulled over the face with a rubber band, and a black leotard. All the other 5th graders were going as Star-Lord from “Guardians of the Galaxy.” Halloween sucks!
        “Billy! Put your costume on and meet me at the front door!” shouted Mom from the other room.
        “Whatever!” he shouted back.
       Billy turned to grab the Skeleton costume off his bed, but it wasn’t there. He knew he had left it there. Where could it be? He checked under the bed… three times, then his closet, and even the bathroom. He called out for Mom, but she didn’t answer. Suddenly, all the lights in the house went dead. He called again for Mom, and still nothing. Billy hated the dark, so he held his breathe and ran to Mom’s room to investigate. Mom was gone, but the Skeleton mask was there. Sitting on her bed pillow, staring at him. Billy wanted to cry, but he was too scared. Then he heard footsteps behind him. It was the rest of the costume coming to get him! He lunged toward Mom’s bedroom window, and tried desperately to open it, but the child-proof lock was on. The footsteps got closer, and Billy squealed, trying with all his might to open the lock. He couldn’t breath. He just wanted Mommy!
       “Sweetie. Stop it, its’ me!” Mom said softly.
       “Mommy,” sighed Billy. He was so happy to hear her voice.
       Before he could turn around, and leap into his mother’s arms, he saw a boney hand grab his shoulder.
       THE END

~~Story and Photo by Ian Russell

Fond Memories

        

        People never questioned why Papa Ryan was always tending to a pile of dirt. Every Wednesday and Saturday you could see him out there, bent over like a crooked “L,” laying seed, and curiously very little water. Mama said it was better people thought he was a failed farmer.
        Fond Farm was small in the county, but we had a big legacy of keeping our hometown pure. Outsiders, usually city folk, would drive through, trying to ruin what eight generations of my family had built here. Papa Ryan always said “I expected little out of life, but Life expected a lot out of me. And I would not disappoint!” He is the smartest man I know. I love him. And I can’t wait till I get older, so I can do the grown up work. Till then, I’ll help Papa hide these bones. I can’t wait for supper.

~~Story and Photo by Ian Russell

Angry Son by Indian Summer

        It was the only thing to calm him down.  Jack could get so angry sometimes.  His mother never understood why.  She only ever wanted him to do his best, so it surprised her that his best was never good enough for Jack.
        When it got bad, Jack would just listen to his music. One song in particular would sooth him, a momentary pause in his tantrum, like a two year old who stops screaming, because after so long they forgot why they were so upset in the first place.  That kind of music worried his mother, but there was no use to reprimanding her baby boy.  She was always so tired from working 12 hour days, and had already punished him for listening to this other band, “I Hate Everything…” or something.  In fact, she yelled at him so much, she almost felt bad, although she knew there was a point to be made.  She loved him so much.

 

~~Story by Ian Russell

The World’s Un-Fair

      Brian ran out of the house teasing his older brothers “Ha! Ha! You’re going to the dentist! You’re going to the dentist!” Mom shouted “Get into the car! We’re taking you to grandmas.” He jumped into the back seat smiling triumphant that he had narrowly avoided the fate that was bestowed upon his older siblings. When they arrived at grandmas, mom took Brian by the hand up to house. He turned his head around and stuck his tongue out at his beleaguered brothers.

        Brian played on the floor with his toys and asked his grandma “What time is mommy coming to pick me up?” Grandma sat in her chair watching her stories on the TV without looking over and said “Your mother got caught up, you’ll be spending the night.” Without a thought he went back to playing with his toys. The night passed to the next day, grandma sat in her chair watching her stories again as Brian played with his toys. He asked again “What time is mommy coming to pick me up.” She responded “Soon dear soon.” Another night passed and Brian once again asked his grandma when his mother was coming to pick him up, no sooner had he asked when the door swung open. Brian burst into tears and began shouting “You lied to me! You lied to me!” His brothers surrounded him laughing, shooting pop guns, carrying pennants reading World’s Fair 1964-65.

~~ Story by Steve E. Normal