Denise Parton
Bio
Denise Parton is one of the purest storytellers of all time, pulling romance, suspense and the supernatural, all in the same piece. Born and raised in Tennessee, Denise's southern style charms all her work.
Stories (16)
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The Wind in Your Sails
Keep Moving Forward. When I lived in San Diego, I started dating a guy who lived on a 37-foot sailboat. It was cool and weekends on the water were fun. Funny thing was he never took the sailboat out of the harbor where it was docked. It was his home, and he didn’t like moving it around. He did however have a catamaran and one day asked me on a romantic picnic on the water. He neglected to check the weather forecast. I didn’t blame him for overlooking that. San Diego had perfect weather so who would have thought a storm would roll in and there would be a small craft advisory issued for the day. We were a way out on the water when we decided to break open our picnic lunch. Just as I opened the basket the main sail snapped, and we found ourselves drifting out to sea. He was well prepared and had a tool kit for such occasions but with the wind whipping the way it was, it took him a while to fix the sail. The longer it took the further we drifted. The water was getting choppy and the more the little catamaran bounced the more nauseous I became. Soon I was retching uncontrollably while water rushed over the boat and gave me a continual soaking. Once the main was fixed we tried sailing into shore, but the wind wasn’t having it, so we had to tack. This meant instead of sailing straight for the harbor we had to zig zag from left to right sailing parallel to the shore until we made it in. What should have taken thirty minutes, took hours. The wind was increasing, the waves were washing over us, and we were losing sunlight. Our situation was getting dyer by the minute and I was soaked to the bone and still vomiting. We were thirty minutes out. I could see the shore and my hopes were on the rise despite my extreme discomfort when an expensive yacht came racing alongside us. There was a party in full swing and people were out on the deck enjoying their swift ride to the harbor despite the choppy sea.
By Denise Parton5 years ago in Motivation
Kick The Door In
Kick the Door In! Sitting poolside one afternoon, an actor friend of mine told me of a recent production he was in where he played the role of a cop. In one particular segment he was supposed to open a door and enter the crime scene. The set piece malfunctioned quite a bit throughout the entire run of the show and he found it difficult to actually open the door. This delayed his arrival many times and caused a struggle before each entrance. The door was ill framed and barely on its hinges. My friend said it wouldn’t take much just to kick it in and walk onto the scene. Since the play was a comedy, and he was portraying a cop, he thought, more than once, of making his entrance by kicking the door in and bursting onto the scene. He suggested that on their last performance he should kick the door in. He guessed the audience would roar in laughter. He made this suggestion to his fellow cast members who heartily approved and encouraged him to do so.
By Denise Parton5 years ago in Motivation
The Filtered Life
In the age of photography studios at our fingertips, life becomes a façade. What we see isn’t always reality. Life is photoshopped. We see everyone and everything through a filtered screen. All of life’s little blemishes are smoothed out. Exposure is added to things that need not be exposed! Contrast runs rampant when we compare our lives to everyone else and feel we don’t measure up. After all, we aren’t traveling the world as a photographer and getting thousands of followers on Instagram. Bloggers are overexposed, spouting off their opinions as facts. Algorithms highlight what the powers that be deem important and shadow what they wish to suppress. So many filters are put on life that it is hard to remember what the original actually looks like.
By Denise Parton5 years ago in Motivation
The Train Whistle
The Train Whistle The Dodge Dart sputters and slows, warning me it’s time to pull over. There is no shoulder on this isolated mountain pass, so I maneuver onto the grass and around a few scraggly trees, paying careful attention not to drive off into a deep ravine. The car rolls to a stop just as the needle on the gas gage drops past the E. I shift into park and turn off the headlights before I take a deep breath and relax against the back of the seat. I’ve done it. I have successfully executed part one of my escape. Part two happens the moment I leave the safety of the car and venture into the dark forest lining the side of this dirt road.
By Denise Parton5 years ago in Humans
