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Homecoming

By Jim Anderson

Lord Galt’s return to the Castle of the Mountain Kingdom was sudden and unexpected. It had to be so. The King had been vocal in his criticism of his uncle. His words stopped short of condemnation, and yet were poison in the minds of his loyal subjects. He may as well have pronounced the Syllables of Doom. But Galt made it through, and brought with him the …

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The Parisian Sky

In the Latin Quarter, we were given a dusky room with an alley view. I frowned. I grumbled. "The room is dismal," I told the proprietor.  "It looks nothing like your website." He was as old as the cobblestones.   …

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Fragment of a memoir

"The thing is," Papa said, "everybody gets that story wrong. They always think the baby died." "Well, sure," I said. "What else?" Papa shook his head. "The baby didn't die. The mother doesn't want the shoes." He finished his gin martini and motioned to the barkeep for another. The fan turned …

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Details

The professor wore the required shirt and shoes. He expected service. Yes, his pants were missing. So were his underpants, his socks and his wife of 38 years, if anyone cared for details. The girl behind the counter gaped at him, her mouth a perfect O. The professor set down a bottle. "It's all in …

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Grant’s Last Campaign

On a porch near Saratoga Springs, he gathers his forces from a rattan chair. The Great Captain, bundled in blankets against the summer air. Death is close, tasting like a damp cigar. “Grant’s Last Campaign,” the newspapers call it. He scratches away. Shiloh, The Wilderness, Cold Harbor. Has he said …

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On the Burma Road

Mr. Jenkins disliked me on sight. That was surprising. I'm as pleasant as the next guy, and he couldn't see well. "I can smell a Jap a mile away," he said. "How I survived." I ignored the slur. "Ready for your walk, sir?" …

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The Cross Roads

Looks good, don't he? Like he could sit up and tell a story. Ol' Terry knew a few! He wanted to write, you know. No, I never saw him with the arm, either. Yeah. In the war. The Hürtgen Forest, 1944.  Same day he crossed paths with Hemingway. Sure, the author! Funny story. Terry's hugging the ground …

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About me

As you have probably figured out, my name is Jim and I am a writer. For many years, I was a college writing teacher, too -- among many other life roles. I have another, more popular blog called Life After Carbs. It's about losing weight on a reduced carbohydrate diet. And it's about me -- my favorite …

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El Morro

The Desire to Leave a Mark ... El Morro (the headland) stands in western New Mexico, and is also known as Inscription Rock. At the base of El Morro is a pool of water that for centuries attracted parched travelers to the spot, many of whom carved dates, names, and messages (including petroglyphs) into the …

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