Mack D. Ames
Bio
Tongue-in-cheek humor. Educator & hobbyist writer in Maine, USA. Mid50s. Emotional. Forgiven. Thankful. One wife, 2 adult sons, 1 dog. Novel: Lost My Way in the Darkness: Jack's Journey. https://a.co/d/6UE59OY. Not pen name Bill M, partly.
Stories (71)
Filter by community
"Suburban"ites
My son has his learner's permit, and he's a better driver than I am. He sometimes forgets to check his speed, but he is more cautious and less likely to fly into road rage than his old man. Speaking of which, my cell phone died this week, and we went to Wally World to get me a new one. He was checking out the Hot Wheels aisle while I looked at the Tracfones, and when he walked over to join me, he wasn't sure where I was. I'd shaved off my light brown hair that morning and was left with the gray stubble shorter than my beard--quite shocking for everyone around me. My boy's first words to me that day were, "Why are you bald?"
By Mack D. Amesabout a year ago in Chapters
Dear John Letter. Content Warning.
Dear John, For more than 40 years, that sneaky move you made on me has plagued me. We haven't seen one another for many decades, but the agony has not gone away. Were we to meet and talk, you would probably have no memory of that, but my trajectory changed permanently, and not for the better.
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Psyche
Is Revival Always Good?
Hampson was a quaint village in the heart of eastern Maine, far from the hustle and bustle of economic activity and tourism that created enthusiasm for residents. "You can't get there from here" is a popular phrase among Mainers everywhere, but it was especially true of Hampson. It didn't seem to be connected to anything. However, it was just large enough to have an elementary and middle school, and whatever social activities could be found in the town happened there.
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Fiction
Deadly Dreams. Content Warning.
John Weston was the wildest son of a gun you could ever meet as far as I was concerned. At age 19, he could out-hunt, fish, wrestle (thumb, arm, or on the mat), and drink any other man in our county. I wouldn't call him impulsive, but he had a short fuse. He did not suffer fools gladly, and it didn't take long for one (or more) to earn a challenge from John to shut up, get out, or fight. As quick as he was to mix it up, though, when the matter was settled to his satisfaction, he'd stop the fight and move on with his life. "No need to humiliate anyone, Billy," he'd say to me. "Just prove your point."
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Confessions
Arrested by Necessity. Top Story - May 2024.
Do you have a favorite place to visit when you're overwhelmed by your thoughts? Do you get overwhelmed by your thoughts? I suppose not everyone experiences the paralyzation that occurs when too many decisions creep in. I get knots in my (ample) stomach that twist and turn into cramps. Within minutes, my pulse increases and I force myself to remain calm, but anxiety starts poking at my chest like a toddler attempting to wake his papa for a snack. The cause of my tension is lost by this time, and my focus turns to slowing my breathing, "staying present in the moment," and remembering where I am and why.
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Men
Don't Blink
Carl and Jeni saved and scrimped for years to afford a small sailboat for days like this. When they met their senior year of high school, they didn't like each other at first, but their friend groups collided regularly. Eventually, they began to see each other in gracious light. Begrudging civility advanced to the talking stage in time for graduation, and they spent the summer working at a local golf course as their friendship threatened to blossom into something more.
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Fiction
Eclipse
Even Cancer Lies In Prolapsed Silence Eventually
By Mack D. Ames2 years ago in Poets
