Essays

The sun was sinking low in the West as Thomas sped his truck around the winding curves on Route 3. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with the old man earlier in the week. The County Line Café…

A bite in the April air caused me to snuggle deeper in my camo shirt. I struggled to sit still as I gazed down through the woods, looking for that fist-sized red head to come bobbing up the hill or…

I flinched sharply when the old, 12-gauge Stevens roared out in the October morning.  A cloud of smoke hung lazily in the air, filling my nose with the sweet smell of gunpowder.  Craning my neck, I searched for the gray…

Thinking back to when I was a teenager, roughly 1970 AD, I recall the dilemmas that beset this young man. Important decisions had to be made. I was torn between a love for hunting and fishing, and chasing after the…