Stories connect us. Ideas change us. I’m here for the ones brave enough to believe in both.
When our son Aryn was about three, I gave him the Marshmallow Test. You know the one. You seat your child at a table and put a marshmallow in front of them. Then you give them a choice: they can eat the marshmallow anytime they like, but if they wait 15 minutes, they’ll get a second marshmallow.
By JL Daly4 years ago in Families
I was washing dishes one day when my eye caught on a tiny, moving speck outside my window pane, tinier than the period at the end of this sentence. I couldn’t make out if it had arms or legs or even a head. I would have missed it entirely, except that it was a brilliant, beautiful candy apple red.
My eyes lock with a woman about my age, and we smile knowingly at each other. Forget the impassioned adventures of our youth, getting into the fastest moving checkout line is where the passions of our hearts lie today.
Whenever grandson Neb explains the rules for a board game, it sounds something like this: “There’s some goats, no wait, they’re sheep. Sheep. And there’s wood, and some tools...”
Freeway stomped on the carcass with her steel-toed boot. Dry bones crunched and shattered, sending a spray of fine dust dancing up into the thin rays of sunlight that broke through the cracked ceiling.
By JL Daly5 years ago in Fiction
Dear Color, Even though I’m a Canadian I left out the “u” in your name Because I don’t want this poem to be all about “u”
By JL Daly5 years ago in Poets
When I was 11 years old, I was awoken one night from a dead sleep by something that I couldn't comprehend. My bedroom door, located at the foot of my bed, stood wide open. And as I stared out into what should have been a dark, empty hallway, there stood a large, life-sized white stallion with jet-black eyes. It made no sound. It simply turned its head from side to side, as if looking for something.
By JL Daly5 years ago in Horror
Some days, he just wants to kill other people’s children. And I’ve felt the same way at times, so that makes him endearingly human. Even though he's an alien. Even though he's a squishy, bug-eyed, mucous-y, murdering monstrosity.
By JL Daly5 years ago in Geeks
Some days, he just wants to kill other people’s children. And I’ve felt the same way at times, so that makes him endearingly human to me. Even though he's an alien. Even though he's a squishy, bug-eyed, mucous-y, murdering monstrosity.
By JL Daly5 years ago in Humans
Peering through the thin crack, she could see Brody pacing back and forth through the barnyard, his fancy dress shoes kicking up dust in the stale August heat. The cicadas drummed out a staccato beat, keeping rhythm with his furious footsteps.
By JL Daly5 years ago in Criminal
