Writing is like cooking, if you spill something, you should make it look like part of the act.
–John Keeble–

Sunday, January 10, 2010


A Work in progress inspired by the kids in my life
Seconds in our lives that changes everything, but what about the daily choices. What does the consequences of wearing a green shirt on Monday instead of the blue one, or talking to a Co-worker instead of passing them at the water cooler? The one time in college you decided to attend a party instead of studying.
Jonny, it is a simple name, but it fits a variety of people. Teachers, construction workers, CEOs, bums, writers, and models, Jonny can also fit very simple people.
At the age of six, Jonny was moved out of his home and moved into a stranger’s house. He was told by the women who called herself the “Social Worker” that home was no longer safe.
One of Jonnys earliest memories was holding his little sister. When Mama came home, they called her Baby. “Baby is crying.” “Baby needs clean clothes.” “Don’t let those dogs near Baby .” Jonny loved the help and protect Baby. When ever he held her he knew that some day he would be able to be a father too. He would be able to pay for their food, teach his kids how to be big and strong, and smart.
He would wonder while she was in his arms, she was mostly held by him because Mathew his older brother would forget that Baby was in his arms and drop her, if life was already set for Baby, or if she could make her own choices. Jonny knew very little about God. The only time he heard Him being mentioned is when Mathew or himself did something wrong and their Mom Caught them “My God , what happened to this room?” “Boys did you do this to the Dog, God , how stupid could you be.” Dad mentioned him more often, usually when he was drunk and was too tired to hit anyone. He would cry and ask, “why God, why”. Jonny only knew if he was God, he would want to give Baby a chance of having a different life.
Somewhere Jonny believed that there was a place where people laughed without fear, that a father hugged their kids like the actors on TV. At dinner the table would always be set and smiling faces sat around it like the models in the magazines. Somewhere there was a place that was not like this one, where he lived now.


  1. reminds me off the foster j=kids. i love it! where you find itt?

  2. taylor please sign out of my user name when u leave me a comment it is confusing.

  3. Lexi, I love it. I want to read more. Why haven't you written more? Why am I not reading more right now? Why aren't you writing more right now? I'm cold.
    You DID write this right?