LJo, Author at Linda Jones - Page 19 of 19
Actor, writer, runner, reader, lover of cats & dogs. I narrate books. I have fallen down in every borough.
Actor, writer, runner, reader, lover of cats & dogs. I narrate books. I have fallen down in every borough.
2
archive,paged,author,author-ljo,author-2,paged-19,author-paged-19,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode-child-theme-ver-1.0.0,qode-theme-ver-9.1.3,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-4.11.2.1,vc_responsive
 

Author: LJo

11 Aug Uncharted

People: I am pushing through. I am on my way to 30 miles this week and barring any circumstance unforeseen (injury, persecution, acts of God), it will be done. Jesus-Mary-and-Joseph, I am pushing through. And I have never. Been here. Before. I am in utterly...

Read More

05 Aug Child’s Play.

Two stories involving children:1. Whites Pond. My seven-year old niece and her little friend in blue shorts interrogated me recently after a swim. "Where have you been??? - we've been looking EVERYWHERE!!!" - "I swam across." - (she cocked her head) "Out to the dock?"...

Read More

03 Aug Crave

7:40am, I wake in a panic: late, I am late, late for the run, the run with the team, it is 7:40 and the run was at 7 and I am late and I am late and I won't make it I've failed the team...

Read More

12 Jul Choosing to Start.

An amazing dream from my friend Sara's sleepy brain:It was marathon day and I was running and doing fine—I wasn't up front, but I wasn't terribly far back either. Sort of—middle of the pack, trundling along. About 1/2 way into the race, I started to...

Read More

14 Nov Science Fiction

"Minds are like parachutes: when they fail, you're fucked." –me.--Half my life ago Bill Buckner dropped the ball.(Or rather, as my friend Peter pointed out, with near-perfect Little League form he let it roll between his legs.)And everything shifted. In that moment—that perfect, awful, irreconcilable...

Read More

14 Nov DISCLAIMER

This is a work of improbable fiction. Yes. It is. Not because the events in question didn't happen; they did. (Stay with me now.) It is fiction because memory is fiction. History is fiction. I am fiction—at least in the way that I look at...

Read More

12 Jan Four to Seven

It is beautiful here and I think the city might be trying to kill me.(Actually that's really not right at all because every time I push up against it, it gives a little more; it pushes, I push back and the game is in full...

Read More

14 Oct I’m wet.

and no, this isn't one of those messages that you find in your junkmail box from some anonymous hotmail user offering you free porn, so just put that thought right out of your head.Just caught in a rainstorm is all - a lovely, warm, windy...

Read More