by Jack Woodville London | Jul 30, 2015 | On the Nightstand
Hammock days. The roses of spring have become the scorched blossoms of July. The view from my writing desk captures little heat waves shimmering across the lawn where deer are so languid that they sleep in broad daylight, not fifty feet away, on hot, dry grass. ... by Jack Woodville London | Jul 3, 2015 | Articles
Among the rows and rows of graves and amidst the linden trees of the Meuse-Argonne American Military Cemetery the cool breezes of eastern France gently suggest the lines from Horace that ‘It is sweet and right to die for one’s country,’ Dulce et decorum pro patrie... by Jack Woodville London | May 21, 2015 | Short Stories
© Jack Woodville London i. Courage “You men stand at ease.” Colonel Henderson looked at his notepad, scribbled something, then looked back up at the pilot and door gunner standing in front of him in the LZ command post. “You say you saw civilians on the road?... by Jack Woodville London | May 6, 2015 | On the Nightstand
It’s spring. Roses are blooming, the irises and Copper Canyon daisies are filling out and sending musky little scents through the study window. Junebug is crawling around the garden stalking some pitiful creature. My nightstand runneth over. In short,... by Jack Woodville London | Feb 26, 2015 | Short Stories
© 2015 Jack Woodville London “That’s no good,” he said. “You have to stretch the ITB to open up the adductor magnus and gastrocnemius. They’re key to glycogen replacement.” He demonstrated, then smiled knowingly while I tried to follow. “And don’t bounce. ...
Recent Comments