Posted by: quoththesparrow | April 21, 2016

Oddball Bob and the Very Starey Staircase

Oddball Bob

Oddball Bob hobbled up to the decrepit parking structure. He found the stairs and, grabbing his right leg with his left hand, slung it to the first step. Twisting carefully, he hopped a couple of times, then heaved his other leg up. Bob repeated this process all the way up the stairs.

At the top he scanned the expanse of cars of various sizes and colors of the rainbow. It took Bob a while to do this because of his stiff neck. His head only turned in jerky motions. Finally, there it was, the cobalt Chevy coupe. Bob tilted his head slightly so his lazy eye turned to meet the other and he could see it fully and be absolutely sure.

A rapid grunting emitted from Bob’s lips and he hobbled over to the car. There, he waited stealthily. If you call standing directly in front of the car with the streetlamp boldly shining on him stealthy.

People started coming to their cars and driving away. Soon, there were only three cars left, including the one Bob was standing in front of.

Sometime later a young man came walking toward the car Bob was standing in front of. When the young man was a foot away, Bob yelled, “Ha!”

The young man stopped, and sighed. “Hi, Bob.”

“I didn’t scare you?”

“Dude, I saw you all the way from the stairs.”


“What do you want?”

Bob started grunting again.

The young man groaned. “Ugh, I hate it when you laugh.”

“I’m gonna get you!” Bob exclaimed, then shuffled forward, jerking his arms until they were out straight.

“Really. Okay, I’m gonna get in my car. I’ll probably be gone by the time you get to the driver’s side.”

Bob growled. Well, it was more like, “Yaaaaarrr!”

The young man sighed again, this time frustrated. “Bob, what do you want?”

“Youuu, youuu toook my pen!”

The young man laughed loudly.

Bob yaaaaarrred again. “That’s not funny!”

“Yes it is! You came all the way here, stood waiting for me for however many hours, all for a pen.”

Reaching into his pocket, the young man pulled out a chewed up Bic pen. Casually, he walked over to Bob and placed the pen in Bob’s shirt pocket, then patted him.

“There ya go, buddy. Hey, have a good night and don’t get yourself in too much trouble.” The young man winked while simultaneously snapping his fingers, then pointing at Bob. Then quickly he was in his car and drove away.

Bob stood there for another five or ten minutes.

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll go back now.”

And with that, Bob hobbled back toward the stairs.

Posted by: quoththesparrow | April 17, 2016



The desert continued to stretch beyond the horizon. Sun-bleached sandstone crumbling under the oppressive heat. But that didn’t affect the young man. With each step his confidence grew. From time to time he’d spot a unique rock formation and excitedly pull his book out of the backpack, flip a few pages and exclaim with joy when he found the image he was looking for. Then he’d bring out his map and mark his find. And then on he’d forge.

A little while later he found another formation. Again he brought out his book and map.

He punched the air excitedly. “Made it farther than any of them! I’ll find the Lost City…and its gold. I’ll be rich and famous and then everyone back home will see.”

Off he took at full speed. After a few minutes he’d winded himself and stopped, catching his breath. He took a water bottle from his backpack and drank heartily. When he had his fill he returned the bottle to his backpack and went on.

“What shall I do with all the money?”

A smile creeped across his face. “I’ll hire my family as servants in my mansion. They can sleep in the moldy, dark basement. Ha! And I’ll grind them down with the worst tasks ever and not listen to a word they say. Not one complaint or plea. See how they like it.” At that he laughed, not humorously, but spitefully.

The sun had made its trek across the sky more than halfway toward the western horizon. Shadows began leaking from the rocks. Then, in the distance the young man heard a sound that turned him whiter than the bleached wood he’d occasionally seen in the desert.

“No. It can’t be. There are none here.”

He stood frozen for a second, then shook it off. “Man, I really do have an overactive imagination.”

On he journeyed. A few minutes later, his eyes grew wide with epiphany and he laughed harshly. “The conference! The guys at work let me speak at the conference because they wanted me to get mocked off stage!”

He stewed for a little while. Then something else began brewing in his thoughts. “Let’s see how they like sabotage. I am their errand boy. I know all their secrets. How about I run up business charges in their name…I can change their proposals en route to the CEOs.”

Suddenly, he heard the sound again, this time close by. Instead of freezing, he bolted. Only, not a hundred yards away in front of him appeared the very source of the sound.

“Lions?! Here?! Really?!”

The lion roared and charged toward the young man. With all that he could muster, the young man scaled the nearest hill of craggy outcroppings. At the top he looked back and saw the lion almost to the hill. He turned away and ran.

Into the night he ran, stopping only to catch his breath. Time would go by without him seeing or hearing the lion. Just when he had hop it was gone, the lion would make its presence known and on the young man ran.

The sun rose over the horizon, breaking across the desert hills. Light began chasing shadows from the desolate world. Still the young man ran. He hadn’t heard or seen the lion for a while again, and he dared to hope again. Slowing to a jog, he passed between two hills. The sun was already warm and the shadows up ahead would be invitingly cool. Just as he jogged to the darkened patch of ground, too late he realized it was not shadow, and he tumbled head-first into the hole. He bounced and somersaulted until he hit bottom, some 20 feet below.

The hole was steep, like a well but with no water. His chest heaved as he laid on his back, his legs crumpled against the walls. As he stared up at the sky, the world spinning, the lion’s face appeared over the top edge. The lion grunted and the young man laughed.

“At least down here you can’t get me!”

With another grunt, the lion left. First, the young man checked himself for broken bones. Finding none, he slowly stood up, leaning against the wall as his head spun. Once he stabilized, the young man reached up, dug his fingers into the dirt, and tried to pull himself up. But the dirt crumbled and he slid back down. Again he tried, and again, and again. He tried putting each foot against a wall and hoisting himself up. But the dirt crumbled. So many ways he tried to get out of the hole, but no matter what, they always failed. The dirt crumbled and he fell. Finally, he collapsed and wailed.

“I’ve come this far only to die in a hole. This is so unfair!”

Hours went by and the young man continued to lament. The sun shone directly overhead and the hole was completely illuminated. And it heated quickly. Within minutes the young man had sweat through his clothes.

Above, the lion appeared again at the edge. The young man picked up a pebble and chucked it at the lion. He missed. The lion didn’t even flinch. In fact, it seemed to be smiling.

“Oh, come on!” the young man hollered. “Now you’re laughing at me, too?”

The lion continued staring at the young man. Its expression changed slightly. More serious now.

Incredulously, the young man demanded, “Are you judging me?”

A rumbling came from the lion’s throat.

“I take that as a ‘yes.'” And the young man thumped his fist against the wall in exasperation.

Minutes went by, the heat becoming deadly. The young man struggled to breathe. He looked up at the lion.

“Seriously? I have a couple selfish thoughts and I end up roasting to death. After everything everyone else has done to me? Where’s the justice in that?”

The lion flopped itself onto the ground and rested its head on its paws. Its eyes gleamed with interest.

“Okay, maybe I was a little more selfish than just those couple of thoughts.”

The lion cocked its head.

“You don’t believe me? Of course you don’t. No one does. No one listens to me. I wanted to show them up. I wanted to be better than everyone. Larger than life.They hurt me. I wanted them to feel the pain they made me feel.”

He kicked the wall, then howled in pain, clutching his foot. He glared up at the lion. It shook its head slowly. The young man threw up his hands. “What?”

He locked eyes with the lion for a few moments, than dropped his arms, resigned.

“I just wanted to feel like I mattered, that I was special.”

The young man banged his head against the dirt wall. “This is my punishment, I gather. I tried to repay evil with evil…I brought this on myself…But if I did, I should be able to get myself out. Only, I can’t. I can’t save myself.”

As the young man slumped against the dirt wall again, he noticed grooves and dents in the dirt that looked like claw marks and paw prints. Slowly, he turned toward the lion in bewilderment.

“You made this hole?”

The lion smirked and nodded.

“Then you’ve got me no matter what,” said the young man, resigned.

With that, the lion jumped up and disappeared.

The young man sighed, “Now even you’ve deserted me.” And he closed his eyes.

Minutes later he heard a noise within the earth, coming closer.It stopped just before the wall. Then he heard scratching noises, and the dirt began to crumble away.



Posted by: quoththesparrow | April 14, 2016

Meant To Be


There once was a beautiful rose

Magnificent in color

Its leaves shiny and petals full of life

A sweet, sweet fragrance so alluring

Many people stopped to admire it

And breathe in its beauty

Then continued on their way

Yet, in all the admiration

No one thought to stay

And nurture the rose

After a while people stopped paying it visits

The weather turned

Rain fell

At first it quenched the rose’s thirst

But the more the rain fell, the harder it came

Soon it turned to hail

And stripped leaves and petals from the rose

On it bore down

Then suddenly, it stopped

A spot of sun broke through the clouds

A breeze trickled in, kissing the rose gently

Then the breeze blew harder

In a flash the breeze turned into a mighty gale

The rose was whipped to and fro

Only its roots held it down

The wind hurled on, unrelenting

The rose’s leaves and petals,

If not blown away,

Were ripped to rags

On the wind howled

Until the rose was almost spent

Then suddenly, the wind stopped

And the sun came out

The rays caressed what was left of the rose

The sun stayed and beamed on

Yet, the longer the sun stayed, the hotter it grew

Under the heat, the rose wilted

Until it was but a shriveled remnant

At last the rose collapsed

Shortly, it would become one with the soil

No one to know that a beautiful rose

Once stood tall and proud in that place

Winter came

The ground covered in snow and ice,

Where our rose once was, now a frozen waste

Spring came, melting the ice and snow

Watering the ground

The sun returned and warmed the land

One day a tiny green shoot poked through the soil

A little boy playing the mighty hero

Slicing through the air with a stick for a sword

Stopped at the sight of the little green shoot

He knelt and peered at it in wonder

Then he turned back and called,

“Daddy, what’s this?”

His father came and knelt beside him

“It’s the beginning of a new life.

It could be anything.”

“Daddy, I’ll pull it up and give it to Mama!”

“Oh, no, son. But wait.

I’ll show you what to do with it.”

His father left, then returned shortly

With a spade and pot

First he scooped in dirt, then gently dug up

The little green shoot with his spade

And placed it carefully in the pot

“We’ll take it home and plant it in the garden.

Care for it, son. Nurture it.

In time, we’ll see what it’s meant to be.”

Posted by: quoththesparrow | April 14, 2016

Leader of the Coat


Two men stood at the precipice

The valley spread out before them

Behind them the rest of their group

“What do we do?” they shouted in unison

The men looked at each other

“Do you know?”

“I don’t know. You?”

“Not a clue.”

The one man look at the other

“Why, your coat is much more fanciful than mine.

You have good taste. You must be smarter. You be leader.”

The other man agreed

He took the path nearest them down to the valley

The others followed

Three days, then three weeks went by

Everything went fine

Or so they thought

One day they called a town meeting

When the man with the coat stood in front of them

He opened his mouth to speak

But before their very eyes

A child of eight years or so

Snuck up and snatched his coat

Right off his back

“Whose child is so unruly?”

“None of ours!”

The child taunted the man and waved his coat

The man chased the child but could not catch it

Suddenly the town was surrounded

By an army of strange children

At first the town laughed

“Let’s show these youngsters who’s boss!”

But the children rounded up the town

Faster than they could reach the children or run from them

No matter what, the town could not outsmart the children

Four days, then four weeks later

The adults work the land

While the children run the town

It is a prosperous place these days

Posted by: quoththesparrow | May 12, 2012

Can you guess what these are?

Posted by: quoththesparrow | May 12, 2012

Thought I’d share some of my other art forms with you!

Posted by: quoththesparrow | January 2, 2012

Happy New Year!

Hello World!

Yes, the new year has begun and with it those resolutions. Some people like them, others find them pesky, and still others like myself completely forget about them.

However, it is good to look back at what we’ve learned and accomplished over the past year. I have learned humility and gained confidence as my writing career has grown exponentially. I am loving being back in Columbus, Ohio and reconnecting with friends. Yet, even though I have returned to a place I know and love, no experience is ever exactly the same. And I don’t want it to be. I want my time in Columbus this time around to be different, in a good way. It’s a re-creation as I see it. Since returning I’ve already had articles published with a local magazine and weekly newspaper, and I’ve made some wonderful new writer friends as I’ve searched out writing groups for me to belong to.

I believe this year will be a good one, because I will make it so. Oh, there will be trials and tribulations for sure. But through it all I will hold my head high and the sun will eventually shine again.

Happy New Year to all!

Posted by: quoththesparrow | August 2, 2011

What’s New

Ah yes, since we last spoke I have continued to write, write, write away! I have plenty more stories with Penda Publishing and some new ones with Buildipedia, but I have also been trying my hand with sites like Environmental Graffiti and plus its sister sites, especially I had good feedback on EG article about churches in the North America going green. I’ve had fun writing the recaps on the show In Plain Sight for and now it seems I’m moving forward with features – I recently had my first celebrity interview!

Posted by: quoththesparrow | May 26, 2011

New Stories!

I have some awesome new stories from The Springfield Paper for y’all to enjoy. I am excited that you get to read these! One is about a beam from the WTC being in the Memorial Day Parade. Another is about Run Across America. They came through Springfield and I got the chance to talk to Sara Kate Gillingham-Ryan. I didn’t get the chance to talk to Dean Karnazes, but I snapped a picture of him getting into a car. =)

Posted by: quoththesparrow | May 26, 2011

I’ve been writin’ away!!

Hey All! I’ve been gaining some ground in the writing world and finally got around to making a portfolio here. Check it out in my pages.

It seems so long ago since I had my first article published with The Animal Insider. Then I was a review scout with Yelp. For almost a year now, I’ve been writing for an architectural site called Buildipedia. In October last year Patch – powered by AOL, came to Dayton and Cincinnati. If you haven’t heard of Patch, they focus on local news for an area. I was in charge of starting up the directory for Kettering. But, sadly, Dayton and Cincinnati aren’t too well off economically, and they couldn’t find anyone to be an editor so they had to put the start-up on hold. Unfortunately, because of that the Kettering site is not up and running and I can’t provide you a link for it. After that, at the end of January I started writing for a weekly newspaper, The Springfield Paper, and have been going strong since.

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