If you read my post last week you know that my blog is switching format a little. I’d originally set up my blog hoping to gain interest in my novel (a link for which is located conveniently to the right of the screen). After a year of rambling on about a version of God hopefully a bit more palatable for those disinclined to read Mother Goose as though an exact history of the reality of all existence, I have decided, for the sake of having time to do my real art, to begin writing short stories and posting them here, since, I have come to the inevitable conclusion that either I have time to blather about the divine, or write stories, but not both. Not to the exclusion of observation about the whole of the universe, if anyone wants my two cents on something pertaining to theology, just ask and I’ll be happy to answer in this medium.
In the meantime, my inaugural work in this format will be substantially shorter than what I’ve already written. I have much more in the works, but the first thing to come to mind was short, so that is what I’ll be sharing this week. That, and, it is some coincidence that my new software cannot be set up fully at this time anyway, so, I actually have to write the whole story out again, blessedly short though it is, rather than having the convenience of “cut and paste.”
Bear with me these first few weeks as lately my writing seems to be more expressive of my own mind than something pondering a universal question as I have been accustomed previously.
Without further adieu:
Porch
Loudin sat down by his father’s side and asked him a question. “Dad, what’s the point to living?”
His father thought but briefly as a smile arose to his lips, “My son, not so much you, or your brothers and sisters, but your Mother.”
That said, they sipped sweet-tea on the porch as the sun set, the crickets chirped, and the lightning bugs began to dance to the sweet music of the cicadas.
photographs courtesy Philip Greenspun
Namaste!
Tygarjas Twyrls Blog 
Leave a comment