I walked up a long rise toward the edge of town. The grass between the road and fences turned from gold and green to silver as the wind laid it over. They sky had become a hazy baby blue in the midday heat. There was nothing in the air that hinted at what was to come.
One CommentAuthor: Patrick Dobson
Dr. Patrick Dobson is a work in progress until his termination. In the meantime, He is a writer, scholar, postman, and college professor living in Kansas City, MO.
The University of Nebraska Press published his travel memoirs, Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer in 2015 and Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains in 2009. Canoeing the Great Plains won the 2016 High Plains Book Award in Creative Nonfiction and the Thorpe Menn Literary Excellence Award. His essays and poems have been published in New Letters, daCunha, Kansas City Star, Garo, Wood Coin, and JONAHmagazine, and others.
Dobson earned a doctorate in American History and Literature at the University of Missouri-Kansas City in 2013. He has edited books, taught journalism, and been a union ironworker. He now teaches American History, Modern Latin American History, and Western Civilization at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, KS.
He looks forward to hearing from you soon.
The injury happened in an instant and just a second after that I felt embarrassed, silly, and dumb. I’d dropped the mail into the post box by the door, up one reasonable step from the sidewalk leading to the stoop. Pivoting around on my left foot, I straightened myself out and stepped down with my right foot. My leg turned to spaghetti.
Leave a CommentIndependence Day 2021 started with a whisper. Late sleeping. Long napping. Plenty of goofing off. Later, it would explode with furious anger but not that of arguments and harsh words. Instead, it would produce in me a fierce feeling of patriotic fervor.
One CommentWhen I was fifteen years old, white and dumb, I landed my first job that paid hourly wages. Two summers caddying at a snooty country club was about enough for me. It was four miles from home. I had to walk that eight-mile round trip to earn $5 for a round. Since I wasn’t working for professionals, a loop on the course might take four hours. Some days I toted two bags for $10. Other days I carried two rounds.
Leave a CommentI know about parents; I had such a rugged time with mine. Not just them, but also the siblings mired so deeply in the family diseases. God bless them. I’m glad I don’t have to walk in those shoes.
One Comment