Running on Empty


The child was drawn like a magnet to the topsy turvy jumble of discarded items.   With hands extended, he mined the heap looking for buried treasure.  Then it happened!  He hit pay dirt!

Captivated, he withdrew a toy adorned with iridescent symbols that seemed to dance before his eyes.  Greedily, he caressed the toy, then carefully hid it deep inside his pocket. The toy hummed and whispered, and beckoned him to play.  It willed him to abandon the playground and all the children that gathered there.  IT became his obsession.  As the years went by the toy remained his constant companion.  He found comfort in its smooth, responsive surface.

The old man sat staring at the wall.  The toy, his constant companion, lay discarded on the table. There was a time when he thought he hadn’t missed any thing living in the margins.  But now, he realized the world had passed him by, and he had  missed everything.


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Down in my basement, lined neatly on a shelf are handwritten notebooks chronicling my life. After years of writing, the experience became more of a burden then an important part of my day so I quit writing. Five years later I took up writing again. This time it was in the form of a blog which gave me a place to hang out after I lost my job. From there my blog content morphed into writing about my general contractor experience building our house. As my life experiences grew so did my blog.

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