Christmas in Rhyolite, Nevada by S.D. Gates | Advent 2018 – Day 24

Christmas in Rhyolite, Nevada By S.D. Gates She had always wanted to visit the collection of sculptures in Rhyolite, Nevada - always. But Rhyolite is so far out of the way from anything, it's about 120 miles northwest of Las Vegas, on a paved, but very bumpy road, which winds its way through a landscape … Continue reading Christmas in Rhyolite, Nevada by S.D. Gates | Advent 2018 – Day 24 →

There’s Always One by Holly Geely | Advent 2018 – Day 23, 4th Sunday

There’s Always One By Holly Geely “My chestnuts are talking,” said Phillip. “I don’t need to hear your personal business,” said Mary-Anne. Phillip was her boss, and there are things about one’s boss that one never wants to hear. “No, really, my chestnuts are talking,” said Phillip. He held up his paper plate, recently filled … Continue reading There’s Always One by Holly Geely | Advent 2018 – Day 23, 4th Sunday →

He Knows When You are Sleeping by Trent P. McDonald | Advent 2018 Day 11

He Knows When You are Sleeping By Trent P. McDondald You awake up there? Of course! How could I sleep tonight? What time is it? 11:52. Eight minutes until midnight. So Santa will be here in eight minutes. What? You think Santa enters every house at exactly midnight? Ha! Why not? There are hundreds of houses in this town … Continue reading He Knows When You are Sleeping by Trent P. McDonald | Advent 2018 Day 11 →

In Santa’s Shadow by Trent P. McDonald | Advent 2018 Day 2 | 1st Sunday of Advent

In Santa’s Shadow By Trent P. McDonald Voices where emerging from the kitchen. Loud voices. Chet knew that Mom and Ty were arguing. Again. He couldn’t make out anything more than single words here and there, little blasts of clarity through the heated rumble. His stomach turned over and twisted into knots. Why did they have to do this on Christmas … Continue reading In Santa’s Shadow by Trent P. McDonald | Advent 2018 Day 2 | 1st Sunday of Advent →

The Truck Stop by Trent P. McDonald – Day 18 Advent 2017

I slowly turned the dial with my right hand, keeping my left on the wheel. Nothing but static, the dial was as barren as the empty highway in front of me. The only music I had, came from the engine and tires of my old ’67 Ford, which hummed along as it had all day.

My mind was numb from that hum and my vision was getting a bit blurry. It was a quarter past three in the afternoon, yet it was already beginning to get dark. The cola I’d picked up at that last gas station was making me uncomfortable.

I thought back over the day and my food intake. A couple of bags of chips and a few candy bars. An awful truck stop coffee in the morning and that soda I had finished a half an hour earlier.