tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51393232258804054672009-10-03T13:00:27.388-04:00I decided to have a blog where I write. Some of the material will be my opinion, some of the material will be contrary to my opinion. Please don't think that because I write it here it is what I believe. It is an experiment in writing, not a forum for some view.He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-44693504722529465692007-09-03T19:18:00.000-04:002007-09-03T19:21:27.060-04:00

Like the train from the movie "The Fugitive", my blog plans have been derailed. What, perhaps could derail this project. Well, that is simple. The derailment was due to me working on my Master's. It is taking up a LOT of time and most of my typeing time has been to work on that. I plan to continue writing here, but it will be much less often than the first week or two of this project.

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-7327936610264382222007-08-21T17:47:00.000-04:002007-08-21T18:07:20.373-04:00

I was sitting in the third row, second seat from the back when she walked through the door. She had short brown hair, wore no-name blue jeans, no-name white tennis shoes, and a brown sweater. She handed the slip of paper to the algebra teacher. The algebra teacher told her to sit in the third seat of the second row. She had freckles dotting her nose and upper cheeks. She had brown eyes and a

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-51968839151515751962007-08-16T21:32:00.001-04:002007-08-16T22:00:24.668-04:00

I lived in a two-story duplex, complete with an unfinished basement. It was a brick house with a concrete porch and a good sized front yard. The backyard, however, was about an acre. The back part was an overgrown blackberry patch. That is where the fort was, right in the middle of the dense entangled blackberries.I am a four year old. Mommy lets me go to school now. I wanted to last year

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-87175339118029204452007-08-16T00:29:00.000-04:002007-08-16T00:37:01.578-04:00

Slowly Rebecca walked through the light rain early in the evening. Although it was after dusk, she could still see everything in the city because of the street lights that endlessly seemed to shine their cold light down on the streets of Manhattan.Normally the street would be littered with youth, but not tonight. Normally, she would have taken a taxi home, but not tonight. No. Today, she was not

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-53450333348869718382007-08-15T19:03:00.001-04:002007-08-15T19:13:43.672-04:00

I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for that long evening we spent together last night. It almost seemed like we both blonged there, together. Just the two of us, alone, with the snow lightly falling on the rooftop overhead, while the two of us sat alone, most of the time without a single word being uttered. You had originally entered the room with your wet hair draped upon

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-39100917082023275162007-08-15T18:55:00.001-04:002007-08-15T19:01:34.505-04:00

Slowly, he ran his long bony fingers through her silky brown hair. She looked up at him with a look he knew all too well; one of pleasure and delight. They stared into each other's eyes for several moments, or possibly minutes; in the mood they both were in, time was of no relevence. He looked into her beautiful brown eyes and saw the love he knew only she could give him. Still looking up, she

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-33570978493320923412007-08-15T00:01:00.000-04:002007-08-15T00:05:43.516-04:00

I chose this template because it reminded me of Converse tennis shoes. I don't know about you, but when I was growing up on the less than rich side of town, my mom bought me converse for school. We got one pair a year each, so it was important for us to take care of them. I remember the star on my ankle. Go Converse - and go blog!

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139323225880405467.post-31729090020466931962007-08-14T23:56:00.000-04:002007-08-14T23:57:07.576-04:00

I decided to have a blog where I write. Some of the material will be my opinion, some of the material will be contrary to my opinion. Please don't think that because I write it here it is what I believe. It is an experiment in writing, not a forum for some view.

He Who Blogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942415644666315616noreply@blogger.com0