Tag Pete Howard

The Edge of Faith

I There are three reasons for a man to fall to his death from a cliff. It might be an accident, either brought on by a quirk of nature or human error. An unfortunate turn of events may have brought him to some precipice at a bad time – like a sudden rainstorm causing him to run for cover over a path that has abruptly been washed away. Perhaps he

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The Invisible Knife

I “I want to know once and for all who did this to me!” hollered Hugh Jackson III, waving his stubbed hands dramatically for all to witness (and seeming to startle himself more than the rest of us). This was the climax of a speech he had prepared for me and the local policemen on the morning of my arrival in New Iberia. I had come to investigate a six-month

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Billy Buck and the Bear

I I came to the city of Gold Creek in early May as the fitful spring winds were settling into early summer. The morning air was rife with the smell of lilac and the sound of lunatic birds tweeting and whistling from the huge oaks and maples that lined the streets of the finer residential areas near the college.  Children played in the yards, dogs barked at anything and nothing,

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America’s Rights

The only thing as bad as the naïve, self-promoting bureaucratic, self-pitying, excuse-making, manipulative, overly idealistic, pretentious, system-sucking Democrat is the self-righteous, birth-entitled, Christian “Right,” “everyone-has-a-choice” preaching, bean-counting, in-denial-of-their social advantage, and blind to how the other half must live Republican. The only thing as great as the forward thinking, solution focused, empathetic, compassionate, self-sacrificing, social-class sensitive, conscientious, environmentally aware, at once pragmatic and idealistic, strong yet humble public serving Republican

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The Crossing Over

Under the nervous street light The cat crosses stealthily Pausing at the edge Of the darker side. One eye flashes And it’s gone Into the margins. Black impregnates black The seed of a dream Behind the slumbering houses. I flutter through empty space A little man with little wings And a mouse’s tail. Suddenly I feel a knife In the back of my neck. I reel, collapse, plummet Drowning within

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If you stare at a doorway long enough Someone might appear Who is not just passing through In the shuffle of it all But who means to be there Or who was sent And has a reason to stare Back at you Or beyond you Or straight through you. Filling void with vacancy This stranger you Seem to know hovers in the frame a frail anachronism one hand clutching the

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