W. Barrett Munn > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

*** Don’t cry. It’ll get better is what mother said when disaster stood at my four-year-old doorstep and th..

*** The butt-dial came from a washing machine. You could hear the agitator’s whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, as soapy wa..

*** For a year and a half, I took lessons a piano clone of Van Cliburn. Then I quit. Baseball took precedence. Track and ..

Thanks to Ken e Bujold for editing suggestions.

*** I was perfect, a ripe red balloon. Helium swollen, overfilled. To continue my free floating, I abandoned first and best of lo..

*** Abby has cysts that ruptured. I’ve never felt so useless. My hands can’t absorb pain. My terrier deserves ..

*** Three notebooks held fast by a rubber band. Three times as difficult to fill as the yellow notebook being sc..

*** There! Do you hear it? The courthouse clock struck one. What do you mean I imagined it? I know you must ..

*** That water tower covered in faded blue paint? Wasn’t me sprayed AKJ in great black letters on its side. I'm no dope. ..

*** My pear is French nobility - D’Anjou. The French have invaded my kitchen. No one is screaming build a wall. ..