I Survived A Stalker PDF Download

Bumps In The Road is about people. It is about the people and places that have influenced the author's life. There are stories about his father and mother and how they shaped his life ('Sometimes when men work they tear up things.') Read about 'How Sisters Can Hurt You' -- 'In a super human feat of physicality, my sister, 'The Killer' swung that sodden broom and struck me in the sweet puddin' head. Water sprinkled down from the sky for 30 minutes after that nefarious act of hatred. Seven pigs, 14 chickens, a milk cow, brownie the dog and one cat came and stood in the shower to cool off. 'The Killer' satisfied with her revenge, stalked off to the house and the game was over. I won't admit that she hurt me, but as the old Coon Hunters used to say about ineffective coon hounds, I didn't 'track right' for a few days after that. However, I still won the final game of that World Series 79 to 2 to 0.' You'll read love stories like 'Charles and Rebecca.' 'Finally, I rose to leave. As we moved toward the door, he asked, 'Did I show you my Becky's picture?' I replied, 'Why no Charlie, you didn't.' He took it off the mantle and told me the story again about how they met. Then with a wistful smile and a far away look in his eyes, he said, 'When you are unhappy, the days go by slow, and you think the nights are never going to end. But when you're happy the years fly away. It seems like it was just yesterday when we got married.' In 'A Sudden Summer Storm' you'll read, 'It got darker than the inside of a cow. Then the rain came. As I sat inside the camper trailer, the first sound of the rain was a frying, hissing sound as the drops fell through the leaves. Then as Old Man Thunder rolled and Lady Lightening swaggered, the rain became a torrent. The raindrops sounded as large as tennis balls. They beat upon the trailer with such intensity that I felt like I was trapped inside a snare drum played by a rock-n-roll musician. As the old timers used to say down home, the wind blew so hard that it rained sideways. The wind grabbed the trailer and shook it like a dog would shake a rag doll. The trailer danced around on its wheels as if doing an Irish Clog Dance. The wind laughed loudly as it rushed pell mell through the trees. The trees whipped back and forth, slashing the air in a thransonical symphony of motion. I was fearful that one would break and smash into the car or the trailer. I felt powerless and weak crouching inside that flimsy trailer. Then almost as suddenly as he came, Mr. Storm stomped off through the countryside seeking other humans to intimidate.' There are also stories about skills no longer needed ('I am a poster child for obsolescence'); Pearl Harbor ('Forgiveness is a wonderful thing.'); daughters who wreck cars; students who get a second chance (Trisha). Read about the way people make concessions to health and life ('I like fake food'); 'A friend of mine observed recently that we spend our first forty years trying to kill ourselves and the last forty years trying to stay alive. The truth is, a typical breakfast for us consists of fruit, low fat milk, oat cereal and perhaps toast and jelly. On the occasion that caused me to think of this article, BW and I were eating our fake eggs, fake bacon, fake biscuits, fake butter, drinking our fake milk and drinking real orange juice. The irony is we have actually convinced ourselves that that breakfast tasted as good as the real thing. Sigh.' You will read more stories about his hometown that sounds like a place you would want to live: The Busy Bee Restaurant where the love patrol courted the starry-eyed girl, the library where Hazel Yardley and his mother nurtured the love of reading, Mrs. Davis' store that was across the street from the school and the old artesian well that could make the town a tourist Mecca if only the town fathers would wake up. You'll read about 'The Rose Bush' ('Mom had an old fashioned rose bush in the side yard.'); stor