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 (79)
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P.S. I Loved You
P.S., I loved you. Mum passed away from cancer when I was 17. Dad was 53. For the next five years or so, Dad and I learned to rely on one another and relate to each other as we never had before. The relationship as father and son that I'd always wanted with him became reality for the first time, and I loved it. In many ways, he became my closest friend. However, I was too immature to comprehend the loneliness growing in his heart. After all, I was 1,200 miles away at college most of the time. He was still very much a man ready for love, and just as I prepared to graduate from my undergrad program and move home, he was preparing to remarry. In my shortsightedness and his dislike of confrontation, neither of us acknowledged the obvious: His new wife wouldn't want me living there. It got ugly quickly, and my close relationship with Dad soured, almost to the point of utter dissolution.
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Men
Orange You Glad?
"Blaze orange, really?" Everyone expresses surprise at my choice of paint. I was ten then, and autumn's palette tantalized my vision. "Pick one" was my parents' requirement; it could not be a collage. Heatless, too, I reasoned this hue would warm my body and soul in winter.
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Poets
The Wheelbarrow
"Dad worked harder than I gave him credit for." How many times have you heard someone say that about a father that has passed on? You bet. It’s a common refrain, along with, “I have no idea how he managed to juggle all those responsibilities.” Or something like that. Or maybe it’s about a mom. In my case, I knew how hard Mum worked, and I honored her for it all the time. But Dad and I were like oil and water until Mum died, and I closed my mind and heart to his work ethic.
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Families
Tax Man Cometh?
1 The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t his own. Chris leaned over the bathroom sink to get a closer look at the pimple on his right cheek. He grunted in frustration as the view eluded him. “I hate these stupid glasses!” he shottered—his own made-up word for shouted and muttered. “I’m too near-sighted to see without them, but they’re not strong enough to see with them. It’s like I have a blind spot at the edge of them---what the heck was that?? Jase, did you see that?”
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Horror
Thumper
Hi. My name is Thumper, and I'm an AmericanEskimoPomeranianPekingese mix. I know that's a mouthful! Have you seen my tiny mouth? Is it any wonder they call me "the Underbiter" when I have that mouthful to say whenever someone asks what breed I am?? At least I'm cute. I can't imagine being a mouthful of ugly. I'm cute, and my humans call me "fluffbutt," "fluffnuggett," and "Mr. Dawg."
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Petlife
Snapped Off
Hurricane season rarely affects us, and tornadoes are unheard of. Earthquakes unsettle the population once a year but never more than 3.4 on the Richter scale. The way that nature gets us is with Downeasters, or more appropriately written, Downeastah.
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Confessions
