Originally posted on Primewords:
Human communication is, perhaps, the most misunderstood issue of our time. Communication between people is underused, overused or abused. When we talk, we talk too much. When we listen, we hear only what we want to hear, and even our eyes deceive us because the rest of our senses are not…
Human communication is, perhaps, the most misunderstood issue of our time. Communication between people is underused, overused or abused. When we talk, we talk too much. When we listen, we hear only what we want to hear, and even our eyes deceive us because the rest of our senses are not tuned into what the…
As a young man writing became a form of escape rather than communication. Like every youthful and exuberant lad with a particular talent I thought I would someday write a great poem, essay or book, but that never happened, although I did write well enough to make a living at it for a while, which in technical…
Chapter Six Tuesday morning over my first cup of coffee at home I made a decision to run a private investigation into the death of Benjamin Rodney; in my 15 years as a reporter I had never seen a redacted accident report. My editor, already agitated, would not help. In fact, Bill would most likely hinder me.…
I formulated a theory about God, and one I still hold to this day. First the question: if we are all unique and different, why would we all be judged alike? The answer I came up with: we wouldn’t be judged exactly alike. God understands our personal nuances, our past, how our environment shaped us,…
By JR Owens © In this life that I have wasted, In the sweet nectars I have tasted I fought for freedom from within, To be free from what I could have been? While material wealth escaped me, And the sun set too soon upon me, I never felt without, Though, I lived a…
Five I entered the front door of the police station and walked straight to the dispatcher. “Chief Pierce in,” I asked the blonde woman behind the thick glass window. ‘Hi Jack. No, the Chief’s not in; he’s gone for the day.” “Shit!” “What’s this about Hon?” “It’s about the murder this morning.” “Murder,” she asked…
Four Rotary luncheons are boring, but you do get a free meal. I had hoped Bill would send Shelly for this, but I understood why he was sending me. I knew the Senator fairly well, had interviewed him on several occasions and supported him in an editorial before the last election; Bill figures the senator…
Three The odor of Harold Black’s cigar smoke still lingered inside the editor’s office. After Bill took over as editor he often complained how badly the room needed a fresh coat of paint, but over the months to follow he must have grown accustomed to the smell because he still hadn’t contacted anyone about painting.…
Two Monday morning the rain came down at a steady pace as I drove to work. It was a dark day with low hanging clouds, the kind of day that made you wonder if the sun would ever shine again. As I pulled my car into the newspaper’s parking lot I saw that man again,…
Primewords 