Germy

Here is another story written 5 or 6 years ago -- dusted off and thrust into the harsh light of self-criticism of a mind not yet broken and rebuilt for practicing medicine. I vaguely remember writing it -- I really remember that the story was inspired by one of the best classes I've ever taken. It was basically a semester of studying nuclear weapons, atomic energy and the geo-politics that surrounded (and stills does) the nifty little trick of splitting an atom. The instructor was a biochemist by trade but had a passion that he turned into an elective course. I also have a feeling that this may have been my first attempt to follow in the footsteps of the late great David Foster Wallace and his obsession with footnotes in works of fiction. At the time I thought I should start doing the same -- and its a credit to my writing instructors that they were patient enough to let me work through that foolishness on my own.  To be sure there are some cringe-worthy aspects of this specif

A few days ago I was searching my email account for some document from many years ago. While doing this I came became distracted for a long time with reading old stories from when I was in undergrad writing classes. I figured I'd dust some of them off and put them up here. Some are kinda cringe-worthy, to be sure, but this one, and a few others are post ready right off the shelf. This one didn't even have a title and appears to be from a character sketch assignment with a single page limit. Character Sketch Finally, I was able to cross the busy boulevard and continue peddling my fashionable, yet old steel Bianchi 12 speed road bike down the mature tree lined Side Street. It was not long before I could see his house at the end of the block. Ernest had lived in this house since he was 20 years old. It was new when he bought it, and he and his wife had raised 5 children in it. Now, he lives in the four bedroom, one and half bathroom, Tudor style home by himself.