Joseph McCain
Bio
I love my wife. I love my children. And I had a 30 year love affair with newspapers.
Stories (54)
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In the field
In the field Jungle, fortune, light The blade of the shovel struck neither stone nor dirt, but a peculiar metallic sound echoed. The sandy-blond-headed boy placed his shovel aside and bent down. He could feel the wet dirt against his skin and reached into the hole he had diligently dug. His hands found the thick piece of double-wrapped cloth, and he kept digging with his hands in the soft, moist dirt. Wet clay and dirt clamored under his nails, his hands browned with the soil sticking lightly to them. Dillon dug, clearing the cloth, and gently removed the dingy sack from its layer. He tried not to tear the sack where some roots had gently begun to attach, feeling the metal squirming around in the thick sack.
By Joseph McCain3 years ago in Fiction
Once left
Once left A man and a woman woke side by side as the scorching sun beat down on them. They were alone in a world illuminated by blinding light. Impatiently waiting for inspiration to strike, she headed towards a tree and called out for her love. Their eyes opened to the world of philosophers, while their ears were assaulted by the clamor of the unrestrained thoughts.
By Joseph McCain3 years ago in Fiction
Bar fight
“If walls could talk,” stated the tour guide to the group of 20 or so tourists about the Sandbar saloon that still stood from the early 1900’s. She quickly proceeded to point out the drawings and talking of ghosts that haunted the Mississippi River bar.
By Joseph McCain3 years ago in Fiction
