"The wine, it is bad." |
For spring break, my wife Kathy and I went to St. Barths in the Caribbean. My parents have a small house there, so we stayed for free. My parents also came to Atlanta to stay with our two boys. We ...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Mar 2008 18:15:00 GMT |
Saturday Nights All Right for Surgery, Part 5 (finale) |
I woke up when the door to my room cracked open and someone knocked tentatively. "Mr. Swann?" Soft yellow light spilled onto the floor. I glanced at the clock4:30. "Yes," I said. A nurse came i...
Posted by on Sat, 19 Jan 2008 19:43:00 GMT |
Saturday Night’s All Right for Surgery, Part 4 |
I got back to room 13 around 8:30. I'd been in the hospital for over five hours, although this didn't register--I was just happy to get back to my little curtained cubicle. I also had to pee and aga...
Posted by on Fri, 18 Jan 2008 08:08:00 GMT |
Saturday Night’s All Right for Surgery, Part 3 |
Dr. Schwegman left and I put my laptop and book down. Although I'd come to the ER to get a CT scan, I was a little annoyed that my book-reading holiday was disturbed. Truth to tell, I was feeling a ...
Posted by on Wed, 16 Jan 2008 19:49:00 GMT |
Saturday Nights All Right for Surgery, Part 2 |
Northside Hospital in Atlanta is known as the Baby Factory. Both my children were born there, as were the children of most of my friends and co-workers. I went to their ER because I'm familiar with th...
Posted by on Wed, 16 Jan 2008 07:15:00 GMT |
Saturday Night’s All Right for Surgery, Part 1 |
Last Friday morning I woke up with a pain in my stomach, like I'd swallowed a box of toothpicks. Sharp, jabbing pains behind my navel and a general sour feeling. We'd had pizza the night before and I ...
Posted by on Wed, 16 Jan 2008 07:13:00 GMT |
"The Fisherman's Son" (short story) |
THE FISHERMAN'S SON Once there was a fisherman whose hands were as rough and scaly as the fish he took from the sea, callused scars like welts across his palms, blunted fingernails pressed into his fl...
Posted by on Mon, 30 Jul 2007 06:22:00 GMT |
Why I Write |
Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story&Homer, The OdysseyIn high school, I hated a kid I'll call Stuart. He was the rampaging Napoleon of my adolescence, launching frequent and unexpected ca...
Posted by on Sun, 29 Jul 2007 17:20:00 GMT |
THE BURNING BRANCH--Chapter One |
Here is the opening chapter of my novel, The Burning Branch. Comments, feedback, etc. all welcome. Enjoy. --ChrisCHAPTER ONE Padrig Jones sat at the aisle end of the pew. His tie was too tight and ...
Posted by on Sun, 10 Jun 2007 17:36:00 GMT |
