PenWag.com℠ - Tell Your Story!
Contacting Google Friend Connect...
Use GFC to sign in with a Google, Twitter, Yahoo, AIM, Netlog or OpenID account.
Share

I want my story featured! Email PenWag.com for pricing.
This site is dedicated to the two best storytellers I have ever been privileged to know - my Great-Uncle Henry Shoop, and the incomparable Earl Halbert.
He immediately came to his senses and decided what he must do. He must choose one of the heirlooms and sell it to pay off his debts. “This is what all sensible people do,” he said aloud as the light of the morning enveloped him. “Selling some precious item from my collection will be a constant reminder that I must not fall again into debt, that I must change my ways and never again shame my family in this fashion.”
prev next
The content of this site is © 2009-2011 by SpringFed Systems, LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Terms & Conditions
He immediately came to his senses and decided what he must do. He must choose one of the heirlooms and sell it to pay off his debts. “This is what all sensible people do,” he said aloud as the light of the morning enveloped him. “Selling some precious item from my collection will be a constant reminder that I must not fall again into debt, that I must change my ways and never again shame my family in this fashion.”
Read This Greek Tragdy
The two men found the banker's wife. They had a box large enough to hold her, and a pickup truck. They had her climb into the box, then tried to put her into the back of the truck. But, they couldn't lift it. So they had her climb out, they put the box into the back of the truck, and had her climb up and into the box. And off they went to find the intersection.
Read Thinking Outside The Box
It did get worse. Much worse. Just a little further down the way we encountered a waterfall. We had no choice but to go through it. Dad pulled our raincoats out of our packs and we covered our headlights to keep them dry the best we could. We made it through but got completely soaked in the process. Dad’s light went out and he switched to his electric lamp. Now we were both really cold.
Read Caving
Is it possible for me to love you more than before?
Because my heart skips a beat when you knock on the door.

You said you would love me always and forever,
And to make sure we were always together.

Now I sit on your chair and look at your frame,
the one that is causing me unbearable pain.
Read Into the Arms of a Very Lucky Angel
The boat continued its wild circle in the ocean and Tony, the captain, popped from the companionway as though he were on a bungee cord. “What the bloody hell’s going on?” He demanded, eying Chuck an myself in our menage a deux on the deck behind the wheel.
Read Fish on the Fly
All of a sudden, she wakes me up, and she's been startled: "I felt something MOVE!" I'm still a little foggy, but I ask, "What do you mean, like, under the bed or something?" She says, "NO. I felt wind on my face!" I turn on the the light on my nightstand, and sure enough, there's a bat circling the room, up by the ceiling. In the back of my mind I'm remembering that it's possible for someone who sleeps deeply to be bitten by a bat with its razor-sharp teeth, and never feel it. Along with that goes the wondering about whether it's got rabies or not.
Read There's Something Worse Than Finding a Bat in Your House...
No well-behaved guest went hungry in Grandma’s house, especially seven year-olds. “Are you hungry, mijn schat (“my dear”)?” she’d ask, taking my hand in her firm Dutch grip and gently propelling me toward her melt-in-your mouth Boterkoek (Butter Biscuits). Grandma may not have said much verbally, but good food was her love language before “love language” hit pop culture. She spoke it fluently and well, just like she tended her garden.
Read Echoes of 'Mijn Schat'