Grampabob1946• Show stories

I am a person who likes the truth. I don't like sugar coated excuses,or silly platitudes. Tell it to me straight.
We live in a world where those who tell the truth are called cynics and the lessor charge, blunt.
The reason I write is for fun, entertainment, and because here I can tell the truth. There are too many consequences in my life if I tell the truth. I have to use the little fibs as grease in human relations to paper over those with hurt feelings. It's a shame, but that's how it is. I don't want to live under a bridge so I cooperate with people because that is what is necessary to interact. Flattery is important as well. I don't like it, but there it is.  
So, am I dishonest? Yes, in the sense that I say what I could say to keep myself and keep my family in bread and butter. But in another sense I am honest in that I once agreed to take care of my family and I do that.
So here is where I get to tell the truth.
My favorite author is Flannery O'conner (1925-1964). My favorite story of her's is "in the temple of the holy ghost."
She is quite eloquent in her brutally candid depiction of human nature at its worst. Read her stories at your own risk!

Thanks for your time and attention. 

My Stories

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My Poetry

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My journal entries

  • Oct 24, 2009
    Here I am on the wind-swept plains of Nebraska at 06:15 am behind my computer screen listening to Marzart on public radio. It's grey and rainytoday all day. Our pet rabbits are looking out the windows into the yard wishing, no doubt, that they could be out running with their wild counterparts on the grass though
    October 24, In Life, One day in the life of me.  400 words. → 2 comments, Add one?
  • Oct 2, 2009
    Okay, I'm doing what the advisor told me I should do, and this will make things better. Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2009, Gretchen (my wife) began talking in an odd way again. It is someway out of joint? I mean it is hard to describe, but it is like an old recording with pieces missing. It is the oddest thing. Something
    October 2, In Contemplative, Friends, Life, Love, My life.  500 words. → 4 comments, Add one?
  • Sept 30, 2009
    My wife and I grew up in the same area: the lonely wind swept plains of rural Nebraska. We knew each other as children: attended the same school, have the same friends, her brothers were friends of my brothers. We did attend different churchs: she at the Baptist church, I at the considerably more liberal Disciples of
    September 30, 300 words. → 4 comments, Add one?

Guest Book

1 - 4 of 4
  • Marta on June 27
    Stopped by and read all your stories because, i was in the read myself a good story mood.
  • graybeard on May 16
    Just stopped in to say hey, and thank you for your comment and applause. As to the spelling of Eerie, this spelling means something spooky. Erie is the spelling for the lake. Anyway thanks again for the read, I really appreciate it.
  • Elisabeth on May 16
    It is truly a pleasure to meet you. 1946 is a VERY good year It is mine also

    Any help you need, just ask - I'm a serial SW tragic

    Lis.
  • Tricia3 : Welcome to Storywrite on April 12
    And thanks for reading my story.
    Trish

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