14 Comments

"In their cars people looked like flies trapped in jars." -" just watched the stoplight paint its child green." Love these! you sure tell a good story, Victor.

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Thanks James. I gotta admit I have fun with these. If others also enjoy, that's icing on the cake. Glad you liked it.

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Loved this Victor. I've read it three times now. Papa Hemingway is an enigma. Are we facing life with courage and dignity? Or death. Different color hat.

My ultimate compliment: I wish I had written this.

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Great questions, Jim. You get me to thinking about it more. And many thanks for the beautiful comment. Glad you liked it.

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Yep, totally echoing Bill above!! Right on

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Many thanks Trilety. Glad you enjoyed it!

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Cool vibe, love the dialogue. Nice work!

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Thanks Bill. I had fun with it, glad you liked it!

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What a splendid light touch. The facing it alone thing came up in a conversation today. "The facing it alone thing" makes it sound glib and harmless, but I had to use a skipover phrase because it's haunted my afternoon. It feels like a coincidence (ie. fate) that I read this now. I feel a little bolder, sturdier as a result. Thank you.

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This is one of the most moving pieces of feedback that I’ve ever received, that I was somehow able to reach through and have you feel bolder and sturdier. I’m humbled. Many thanks for reading and your comment.

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Well thanks, Victor, for putting a longing to re-read The Sun Also Rises into my head. Seriously lovely story, every bit of it. The world is what we make it? "Isn't it pretty to think so".

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Well, now you've got me looking to re-read "For Whom The Bell Tolls". Probably my favorite. Thanks for reading and your comment, friend. And yes, it is pretty to think so. And true, at least to some extent.

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Hello Victor! Thanks for the word tapestry! This is what I have taken in my loot bag:

"The sun down smashed the sky. In their cars people looked like flies trapped in jars."

" ... just watched the stoplight paint its child green"

"And the rebel juice leaked out of him long ago"

"Marcus blatted a skeptical warbled note. Look around, he said. This is the real world. A frying pan."

"Do we face eternity alone? ... Found it in Hemingway’s shrapnel wounds, his bloody knee."

Did I tell you I am a word thief?

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Hi Elva and you’re welcome. I’m happy you found a few things to put in your loot bag, which is very fun way of putting it. Don’t be surprised if “loot bag” finds its way into a future piece because I too beg borrow and steal, usually late at night. Thanks so much reading and commenting.

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