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"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)

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Tag: weed

If the Good Lord’s Willing, Part Two

On April 14, 2014April 14, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

This is the second installment of a short story derived loosely from a song I wrote.   Red Hawthorn’s relationship with his won was not the best, but his former wife was, quite possibly, the worst. She thankfully wasn’t home, which he knew because, after he pulled in the driveway, and waited five minutes or …

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Furlough Blues

On April 5, 2014February 25, 2015 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

  In case you missed the installments, here's the whole story. Nothing ever worked anymore for Jerry Lowndes. He was on a bad run. When Lowndes checked his email, he found more evidence that his book on the heroes of the Atlantic Coast Conference wasn’t a blockbuster. He had hoped it would provide some aid …

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Furlough Blues, Part Five

On April 5, 2014April 5, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

This short story begins with a song and ends with a surprise.   Months passed and the dirty feelings subsided in Jerry Lowndes. It was just another job, just errands he had to run, like going to the post office or shopping for groceries. It paid the bills. The packages had no smell. They were …

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Furlough Blues, Part Four

On April 4, 2014April 4, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

The expansion of a song into a short story – by the end, one will have little to do with the other – continues with its penultimate part.   As clueless as he had felt at any time in his life, Jerry Lowndes knocked on the door of Room 227 of the Nocono Lodge, where …

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Furlough Blues, Part Three

On April 2, 2014April 2, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

This is a short story whose creative basis is a song of mine. It never seemed as if Jerry Lowndes slept. The jail cell wasn’t exactly the Hilton, though neither had been the motel room where he and Laurie had been cavorting. His mind had been alive, considering the depth of the hole and paucity …

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Stuck In A Rut

On March 23, 2014March 23, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Fiction1 Comment

About four years ago, I wrote a song called "Stuck in a Rut." A couple weeks ago, I decided to expand it into a short story. I wrote it and posted it in seven installments. Here's the whole story of Josie Swenson and Tripp Fallaw, at least for a week. It was a Thursday, but …

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Stuck In A Rut, Final Part (7)

On March 23, 2014March 23, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

Yes. This all began with a song. I’m well beyond its boundaries now. “Josie, I want you to look at these fuckin’ … vehicles,” Tripp Fallaw said as they arrived at the country club. “Shit.” Josie was world-weary, cynical, burnt-out, and, of course, high. They said, Uncle Jed, it’s the place you oughtta be, so …

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Stuck In A Rut, Part Six

On March 22, 2014March 22, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Fiction2 Comments

Our heroine, Josie, inhales the culture shock of Los Angeles and holds it in. Josie Swenson spent Tuesday in a medicated fog, medicated being a popular cliché for using marijuana where it could be had for a prescription card and a song. Tripp and Wade said they had to “hone” their games, which meant they …

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Stuck In A Rut, Part Five

On March 21, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

Josie Swenson and Tripp Fallaw arrive in Los Angeles, two days ahead of Tripp’s great golf hustle. Josie learned shortly that Wade Sanderson was more than just Caddy to the Stars. He sold them weed. Sanderson drove a nice, burgundy SUV, a Ford Explorer for which he apologized and said he was aiming to trade …

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Stuck in a Rut, Part Four

On March 18, 2014March 21, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

This short story began with a song I wrote with the same name. With the song as a base, now I'm making it up as I go along. Tripp told Josie to be standing out front of the Columbia airport – it was allegedly “international” though most of its planes flew to places like Atlanta …

Continue reading Stuck in a Rut, Part Four

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