People Sitting in Front of Me
People Sitting in Front of Me: The Man with the Sun-Damaged Skin
The train trip across the Southern Alps of New Zealand was billed as five solid hours of verdant alpine meadows dotted with high country sheep interspersed with braided rivers descending from glaciers. Yes, I did get occasional glimpses, but I was also challenged by the subtler beauty of heavy mist. When all else failed during…
Read MorePeople Sitting in Front of Me: The Bald Man
Even in the crowded writing conference, the bald man in front of me catches my eye, his noggin is as smooth as a bowling lane and as well-worn as a catcher’s mitt. He turns slightly and the fluorescent light ricochets offs his polished head, and I think about how his baldness has impoverished his…
Read MoreThe Woman in Front of Me with a Sign on Her Back at the Writer’s Conference
Two rows in front of me, slightly to the right, the woman was wearing an oversized purple T-shirt emblazoned with the word “WRITER” on her back. We were all writers at this local conference, or at least we thought we might be someday, so why did she need to make this announcement? I couldn’t think…
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