<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:52:19.111-08:00</updated><category term='part fourteen'/><category term='part seventeen'/><category term='part twelve'/><category term='part five'/><category term='Part twenty-one'/><category term='part seven'/><category term='part four'/><category term='part sixteen'/><category term='part three'/><category term='part eleven'/><category term='crazy girl'/><category term='part ten'/><category term='part thirteen'/><category term='time in a bottle 1'/><category term='part eight'/><category term='part fifteen'/><category term='part nineteen'/><category term='part nine'/><category term='part six'/><category term='first post'/><category term='The Muse'/><category term='part one'/><category term='part two'/><category term='part eighteen'/><category term='part twenty'/><title type='text'>Glimpses</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-7914613537398941940</id><published>2011-06-22T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T19:42:37.092-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part two'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crazy girl'/><title type='text'>Crazy Girl</title><content type='html'>Nothingness has become my constant companion. The emptiness of not knowing who you are takes over and envelopes you. I have searched high and low for the answer to who I am that I am just tired of searching. I don't have the mental or physical energy to do it anymore. But yet, here I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I head back toward my house at the end of my walk I find my mind wandering. It is wandering through the photo albums of my past. I usually keep these closed and locked up real tight. Remembering is almost a fatal proposition for me. These photo albums have faceless and nameless people from my past in them that I don't remember anymore. No matter how long I spend searching my brain to remember them I still can't seem to put the faces back on each person in the pictures. If I am not careful I will get lost in these photo albums for days before I come back up for air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rounding the last corner to my house I am watching for cars so I can cross the street. Something is lying in the middle of the street. It looks like a book but it is hard to tell until I am in the middle of the road. Focusing on retrieving whatever the object is I stop focusing on the oncoming traffic. It is not a busy street but I still manage to have to dodge a car in order to pick up the book and head back to the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walk up the driveway with the book in my hand and through the back door I notice that my reverie has been broken and I am not the only one up in the house anymore. I can smell the coffee in the coffeepot, and hear the news on the TV as I close the back door. I put the book down to look at it later and head into the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning, Darling. You left for your walk before I woke up. I missed you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-7914613537398941940?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7914613537398941940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-girl_22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7914613537398941940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7914613537398941940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-girl_22.html' title='Crazy Girl'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2737199761044867812</id><published>2011-06-21T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T11:46:29.019-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crazy girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part one'/><title type='text'>Crazy Girl</title><content type='html'>Waking up next to someone you don't know has to be one of the most existential experiences you can have as a human being. The cobwebs of sleep are so cluttered across my brain that I look at the person sleeping soundly next to me and I am filled with questions. As the sunlight slants across the room I realize I have no idea who this person is. The glint of sunlight that hits the mirror across the room catches my attention for a brief moment and I look up and away from the person next to me. As I look into the mirror I suddenly catch a glimpse of a girl and wonder who she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I find there are two people in my bed and I have no idea who they are or where they came from. I am baffled by the situation I find myself in this morning. I search and search for the answers to my questions, but to no avail. The answers are as elusive as a mirage in a desert. Just as soon as I get close enough to understand the answers to my questions the answer disappears and I am left with nothing but sand running through my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if on cue to some director behind the scenes the squawking of the alarm clock rings and I am roused from my dreamlike consciousness to the day. The person I have shared my life with for the past six years is stirring next to me and I somehow push all the uncertainties away from me as though they were part of a big meal I was finished eating. When I really wasn't finished at all and now still starving wish I could return to the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reach over to silence the squawking before the person next to me is completely roused from their slumber so that I can silently slip off to begin my day in some kind of reverie. Their happiness totally eludes me. Their feelings totally elude me. I am consumed with just making it one more day on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My focal point of the next few minutes is getting my shoes on and going for a walk. I have gone for a walk every morning for the past six years. I put my shoes on and tie them in double knots so they won't come untied and then I step out the door. It doesn't matter if the sun is shining, the rain is falling, or the snow is blinding me I go for a walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walk I see the things around me. I see the cars on the side of the road. I see the people coming out to get their papers. I see the cars backing out of their driveway as people leave for work. I see people wave at me as I pass by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walk I hear all the things around me as well. I hear the trash truck as it is coming down the street. I hear the cars in the distance on the highway. I hear dogs barking. I hear birds singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as I walk I feel nothing. I know the ground is beneath my feet, but I do not feel it. I know that the sun is shining, but I do not feel it on my skin. I know my chest is tightening from the pace I am walking, but I do not feel my heart beating faster and my breath quickening as I walk ever faster toward nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2737199761044867812?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2737199761044867812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2737199761044867812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2737199761044867812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-girl.html' title='Crazy Girl'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-3669624263337198635</id><published>2010-11-30T21:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T21:59:05.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Y'all</title><content type='html'>I really want to start writing in this thing again. I am thankful for my seven loyal followers. I find myself wanting to finish both the muse and the heist. The newest one is still going somewhere in my head and I am not sure. Would anyone be interested in me finishing either of those?&lt;br /&gt;Comment and let me know what you think. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-3669624263337198635?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3669624263337198635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/11/hey-yall.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/3669624263337198635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/3669624263337198635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/11/hey-yall.html' title='Hey Y&apos;all'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-1525785489915341392</id><published>2010-01-14T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T13:38:06.499-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part two'/><title type='text'>Time in a bottle</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;The first thing that I’d like to do is to save everyday… &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;The summertime is my favorite. The days are so lazy and all I want to do is lay in bed. Every morning I wake up and listen. Maybe this is the day that daddy will come home, so I can’t lay in bed all day I have to get up and get ready for him to walk through the door. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;I start the beautiful day with a bath. Momma leaves for work every morning at six. She comes in and kisses me goodbye and tells me that she will see me later for my coca-cola. I lay there for exactly thirty minutes listening closely to the porch. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Daddy worked nights. He would come home from work each morning in the summertime exactly thirty minutes after momma would leave. I would hear his boots climbing the stairs, but I would pretend to still be asleep. He would come in and call out to me. He would call out and tell me he to get up because he was coming to get me. I would bury my head way down in the covers, and sometimes put the pillow over my head. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;He would walk down the hall real loud to warn me he was coming. The giggles would start way down inside of me. By the time he made it across the room to my bed I would be giggling so loud, but trying to be still. He would pull back the covers and tickle me until I thought I was going to pee in my pants. Then I would get up and head to the bathroom and he would run the water for me to take my bath. So that is how I start my day every day, except now there are no footsteps, no deep gruff voice calling out to me, and no giggling, only a bath.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-1525785489915341392?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1525785489915341392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/time-in-bottle_14.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/1525785489915341392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/1525785489915341392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/time-in-bottle_14.html' title='Time in a bottle'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-6968577439341065159</id><published>2010-01-11T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T12:14:10.786-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part six'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>Wendell felt groggy as he began to wash up. His head was pounding, and he felt very different. He knew where he was and what he was doing, but he wasn't sure how he had ended up on the floor of the living room. He remembered coming in from the fields quickly before a storm, but that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he finished washing up he could smell Cecilia's fried chicken in throughout the house. He loved her fried chicken. It must be a special occasion because she only made it on Sunday's and special occasions. It wasn't Sunday was it? How long had he been out cold on the floor? He could feel the anxiety rising up in his chest. This was an unfamiliar feeling to him. Why was he anxious? This was the house that he had lived in his whole life, and yet something was different. Something was very different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wendell, lunch is ready," called Cecilia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm on my way." he called back down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was he going to do? Would she notice that things were different? Was it something that could be noticed? Wendell's head began to spin again. When he first woke up his head was spinning, his whole body hurt, and he was disoriented. He recognized the living room, but it was somehow different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something caught his eye. He turned to catch a glimpse of what was there and it was gone. Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Wendell walked out of the bathroom he almost ran right into Cecilia in the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you coming? It's getting cold?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah right now."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-6968577439341065159?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6968577439341065159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/muse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6968577439341065159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6968577439341065159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/muse.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5299978130016104146</id><published>2010-01-07T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T12:11:20.678-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time in a bottle 1'/><title type='text'>Time in a bottle</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12pt;"  &gt;If I could save time in a bottle…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12pt;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;That’s the song that was playing on the radio when my daddy left one night to get some milk for the morning. Ever since that day I decided that I would save every bottle until he came home. When I started I thought he would only be gone for a day or two, maybe a week, but now I have over four hundred bottles lined up in my room. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12pt;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I make it a point to have a bottle of real coca-cola every day. I walk to the same store daddy was supposed to get milk from and put in my fifty cents and get a litle glass bottle of coke from the machine outside. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12pt;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I made another decision that night, I would never drink another glass of milk until my daddy came home. Momma buys a gallon of milk each week. She gives me a glass every morning with my breakfast and one at night with supper, but I never touch it. Momma says I need milk to make my bones strong and that my teeth are gonna rot out, but I just tell her that only when daddy comes home will I drink a glass of milk again. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12pt;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I am sure of most things. I don’t have lots of questions, but I have always wondered one thing. What does time look like when it is being saved in a bottle, and how do I know I am doing it right?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5299978130016104146?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5299978130016104146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/time-in-bottle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5299978130016104146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5299978130016104146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/time-in-bottle.html' title='Time in a bottle'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-8076453773847029861</id><published>2010-01-07T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T12:07:14.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New one...</title><content type='html'>I can't seem to finish anything I start writing...&lt;br /&gt;I am going to finish the Muse...this is what I have decided:&lt;br /&gt;Monday I will post to The Muse&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I will post to the new one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this helps me stay focused on finishing and also keeps some variety in my life...I get so bored with stories I begin. I think this is why I can't finish the book I started SOOOOO long ago....Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-8076453773847029861?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8076453773847029861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8076453773847029861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8076453773847029861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-one.html' title='New one...'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-8367407914184716913</id><published>2009-12-29T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T13:24:06.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone still reading...</title><content type='html'>Anyone still reading either one of my blogs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the question that has been burning in my mind for quite some time. I would totally understand if I had lost all my readers. I am beginning a new short story that I plan on publishing the first post for today or tomorrow. I need to update everyone on our family blog too, things have been a whirlwind for the past three months. If you are still reading please come back later today or tomorrow and see what you think of my new story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-8367407914184716913?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8367407914184716913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/12/anyone-still-reading.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8367407914184716913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8367407914184716913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/12/anyone-still-reading.html' title='Anyone still reading...'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4940399105507925547</id><published>2009-07-02T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T08:57:21.573-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part five'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>After about an hour the boys finally showed up at Cecilia's door. There were three of them and they were big boys. Just right for moving Wendell. She was so grateful to them for their help that she offered to send them home with the cake that she had made that morning. They told her they were headed into town so they would stop by later and pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the boys left Cecelia tried to make Wendell comfortable. She took off his shoes and tried to decide if she should undress him. She had never seen Wendell without his clothes. He always bathed while she was in her room sleeping or doing something in the kitchen. She found herself feeling very self-conscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She decided that he was not going to be out much longer so she did not need to undress him. He would wake up in time to play the piano for her while she read. She was going to miss his help with the laundry though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cecelia decided to get started on rewashing the sheets that she had washed earlier that morning. The dust had settled and the sun was blazing so hopefully they would dry quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she worked she tried to occupy her mind with the mundane chores of the day. After she finished the laundry she really needed to make lunch for her and Wendell. Oh Wendell, surely he would be up by lunch time right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hung the clothes on the line for the second time that day and decided to go and check on Wendell. She had decided to make his favorite lunch instead of sandwiches. She felt so bad about him falling. It was her fault after all. She should have picked up those pieces of glass. She looked down at her hand as she thought of picking up the glass. Picking up small things was just so hard with only four fingers. She tried not to dwell on her problems. No reason to dwell, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She opened the front door and started to walk back to Wendell's room and heard his heavy footfall. Thank goodness, he was alive, and awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wendell, where are you?" Cecilia called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cece, I am in the back of the house. I will be up there in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cecilia walked into the kitchen and began cutting up the chicken she had been saving for the dinner on Sunday. She decided to fry it up for lunch. Wendell loved fried chicken. She also found a few potatoes and decided to make a potato salad instead of mashed because Wendell loved her potato &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;salad&lt;/span&gt; so much. She had some beans left over from the night before and put those on the stove to heat them up as well. Wendell would be so pleased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4940399105507925547?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4940399105507925547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/muse_02.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4940399105507925547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4940399105507925547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/muse_02.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-6281035446420685676</id><published>2009-07-01T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T09:50:17.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part four'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>The storm began to pick up and Cecilia watched the funnel cloud swirl around the yard. Luckily, it did not come close to the house. As she continued to watch she saw that it was headed for the neighbors to the south. They had been hit more than three times. Hopefully, this one wouldn't do too much damage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the storm began to settle she began to worry about Wendell. He still had not stirred since she had pulled him across the threshold. Cecilia allowed herself to begin to dwell in the what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ifs&lt;/span&gt; that she could feel at the back of her consciousness. They had just been a wisp of a thought five minutes ago when she was caught up in watching the storm, but now they were getting bigger and moving with more force through her mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if Wendell didn't wake up? What &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; she do? She could not work this land by herself. She was lost without Wendell in more ways than one. She had never spent a day apart from him. He had always been there. Cecilia never knew where he had come from. He was not her brother, but he had always lived with her and she had never asked her mother about where he came from. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Cecelia&lt;/span&gt; wasn't even sure that Wendell knew. She made a mental note to ask him when he woke up. She also made a note to tell him how much she appreciated him and loved him when he woke up, if he woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, her swirling thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. She moved as quickly as she could into the kitchen where the phone was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello," Cecelia answered. It was her neighbor to the South, Ann.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cece..I am just calling to make sure you and Wendell are okay. We watched the tornado swirl around the property. Luckily, it missed your house and ours." Ann said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, as far as damage I think we are okay. But, Wendell fell on the porch right before the storm and still has not woken up. I barely got him moved in before the storm started. Can you send the boys over here to help get him to the bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will send the right over, but Cece you need to call the doc to come out." Ann implored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am going to wait. I think he will just wake up and when he does he will be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;. I don't want him to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; in front of doc."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, the boys will be there soon." Ann hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cecelia poured herself a glass of tea and sat down in the living room to wait for the boys. Hopefully, they would be able to get Wendell into his bedroom and in bed. That should help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-6281035446420685676?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6281035446420685676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/muse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6281035446420685676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6281035446420685676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/muse.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2310365562556401456</id><published>2009-06-03T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T07:07:14.798-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Muse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part three'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>Wendell bounded up the stairs carrying the basket of clothes. It was so full with the sheets that he wasn't looking down. His boot heel hit the shards of glass that had fallen from the table when Cecilia had stood up to get the wash off the line in the yard. The big man went down with a loud crash. Cecilia did not see him slip, but heard him hit the porch. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first it was quite comical. She had to suppress her laughter. Wendell was so clumsy for someone who could play the piano with such a fluid grace that she had never witnessed. But, then as she started to walk toward him she noticed that he wasn't getting up. The wind was picking up behind her and she knew they had to get inside or they would be caught in the storm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Wendell, get up! We have to get in the house. I know you hurt your pride, but we have to move fast."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cecilia continued walking toward the porch and when she finally reached the steps she noticed that Wendell was very still. Too still. She felt a panic rising up through her entire body that just seemed to burst open when it reached her chest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She put down the basket she had been carrying in from the yard. Time seemed to stop. Everything began to swirl around her. The dust had finally made it in from the prairie. As she bent down to look at Wendell, so many thoughts began to hit her all at once. What was she going to do? How was she going to get Wendell inside? What would she do without Wendell?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cecilia reached out to touch his throat just to check and see if he had a pulse. A wave of relief swept over her like a hot shower. She could feel the strong pulse that she had felt so many times when he bent down to kiss her on the forehead. He was alive, but why wasn't he moving?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She realized that Wendell had probably hit his head on the corner of the steps. She gingerly lifted his head to see if he had hurt himself, and then she saw it. The glass that had fallen when she had stood up earlier. Why hadn't she stopped to pick that up? This was all her fault, but there was not time to dwell in that self-pity. There would plenty of time later to think about all the things she should have done. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She didn't see any blood and she decided that was a good sign. The dust was starting to cover everything around her including her face. Pretty soon she was not going to be able to see. She needed to get Wendell inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She walked around to his feet and began to pull. He was big and Cecilia was not. Wendell had grown to be about six foot five inches tall. This was almost two whole feet taller than Cecilia and he out weighed her about 100 hundred pounds. After what seemed like hours, Cecilia finally got him across the threshold of the house. She still needed to get him the rest of the way in so she could shut the door to the dust outside. She continued pulling him into the house and finally got him in far enough to shut the door. She ran outside to get the wash, and the tea pitcher she had been using. Luckily, it had not fallen and broken as well. That would have been a mess she did not want to clean up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just as she walked into the house with the last basket and shut the door to the storm she walked over to the window and noticed the funnel cloud off in the distance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2310365562556401456?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2310365562556401456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/06/muse.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2310365562556401456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2310365562556401456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/06/muse.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2594096029165538568</id><published>2009-05-12T10:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T10:21:21.334-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part two'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Muse'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>Cecilia sat on the porch drinking iced tea and watching the wash that she had hung on the line blowing in the wind. She noticed that wind had picked up in the last few minutes. This concerned her only because she also knew that her wash was not dry yet. She would have to get it off or wash it all again because of the dust. There would be a dust storm this afternoon. She would not have to wait much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stood up quickly and grabbed her basket. In her haste she had knocked her glass down and it shattered across the porch. She had to move fast to get the wash, the glass would have to wait. She looked out into the field and saw Wendell stand up. He began to walk toward the house. Cecilia hoped that he would remember that she had put the wash out this morning because it would take her a long time to get it all in the basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had been in the mood to wash their clothes, the sheets, and the kitchen curtains. She had planned to wash the sitting room curtains this afternoon, but if the storm was long that would not happen. She began to pull the clothes off the line quickly hoping to beat the storm, but could feel the wind picking up faster now. The storm was coming and quickly. That usually meant that it would be followed by a thunderstorm and possible a tornado. They had never had a tornado touchdown on their property, but the people down the road had. So she and Wendell had been able to watch the funnel cloud close-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as she started on the sheets, Wendell came running up. "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Cec&lt;/span&gt;, I think this is going to be a big one. I could see it off in the distance when I got up to come in. We better hurry and get in the house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cecilia and Wendell began pulling the sheets and curtains off the line. Cecilia was cursing the dirt. Now she would have to rewash everything. All her morning work was spoiled. She would have to do it all over again. She had been hoping to get finished early today and sit down and read while Wendell played the piano in the sitting room. Now her work would go on into the night and she would not have time to read before dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Cecilia was lost in angry thoughts Wendell got everything else off the line. As if he had been reading her mind he turned to her and said, "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Cec&lt;/span&gt;, I will help you with the wash so you can read this afternoon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, Wendell. I really wanted to read that new book you brought me from town the other day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I know, let's hurry and get inside." Wendell said quickly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2594096029165538568?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2594096029165538568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/muse_12.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2594096029165538568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2594096029165538568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/muse_12.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-7897077146092633716</id><published>2009-05-10T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T14:00:25.730-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Muse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part one'/><title type='text'>The Muse</title><content type='html'>Cecilia had always wondered why it was necessary for human beings to have five fingers on each hand when they could so easily survive with only four. She picked up her iced tea and wiped the sweat off the glass with her good hand. Cecilia knew that when she went into town everyone was staring at her “bad” hand. She was born with only four fingers on her right hand. This never really bothered her because she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t see the need for five fingers, unless she happened to be around people who did not understand. Everyone always looked at her with such pity in their eyes. But, Cecilia &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t need their pity. You never use all of them anyway, she thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took a long drink of her tea. The sweetness of the liquid filled her mouth and she held it there for just a moment to savor it. There really was nothing like iced tea. Her mama used to make the best sun tea in the summertime. She would fill up a pickle jar with water and place her homemade tea bags in the top of the jar with the pieces of thread hanging out of the lip and place the lid on the top. She said that the secret to good sun tea was to leave the lid unscrewed so that the air could get into the jar. Cecilia &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know if she quite believed this because she always closed the lid. Always. If she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t close the lid she was afraid that the gnats would fly in and she would accidentally swallow one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swallowing a gnat had to be Cecilia’s greatest fear. Along with stepping on the cracks in the porch, going up into the attic at night, down in the basement any time of the day or night, and losing Wendell. She sat and thought for a moment, no losing Wendell had to be her greatest fear. Gnats, cracks, basements, and attics aside it had to be Wendell. He had always been there. Ever since she could remember he had held her hand as she fell asleep at night, and greeted her every morning in his special way. He loved to sing her songs when there was a thunderstorm, and when the wind picked up and started blowing across the plain he would always sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the sitting room so she could watch the dust cloud come in from the south.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did it always come in from the south, she wondered? Even now she could feel the air getting dryer and dryer. They &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hadn&lt;/span&gt;’t had any rain in months. If it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t rain soon they would surely have a dust storm. Oh how she loved to watch the power in those things. The cloud would build and build until it seemed it would burst with pure dust. One time she was making sun tea out on the porch and saw the cloud coming in from the south like it always did and made it out to the porch just in time to rescue her favorite pickle jar. She knew that she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t have any tea that night, but being able to watch the storm from beginning to end was reward enough for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendell had come running in from the fields. He was so worried that she would walk out and try to get in the middle of the cloud. Cecilia had always wanted to be swept up. She remembered the look on Wendell’s face when she had told him. They were just kids sitting at mama’s feet in the sitting room and they heard the rumble that always comes before the dust and knew it was coming. Wendell was worried that she was afraid of the storm, but she had told him no, she was not afraid. She loved the dust storms. She imagined that her house would be swallowed up in the dust cloud and she would drift on the prairies forever with her mama and Wendell there by her side. No more bad hand, no more work for mama, and Wendell would be with her forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-7897077146092633716?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7897077146092633716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/muse.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7897077146092633716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7897077146092633716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/muse.html' title='The Muse'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2248178726207837741</id><published>2009-05-10T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T13:53:35.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's the end...</title><content type='html'>That is as far as I can go with The Heist right now. I will try to write more later, but the ending is just not working for me. I have started a couple of other stories. I have the first part for a new one to publish. This is really my problem. Things seem to go and on for me and I can't wrap them up and bring good closure. UGH! Probably because I don't make an outline and I don't know how the story is going to develop until I actually write that part. I hope you enjoy this next story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2248178726207837741?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2248178726207837741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/thats-end.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2248178726207837741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2248178726207837741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/thats-end.html' title='That&apos;s the end...'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5483914469877505838</id><published>2009-04-18T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T13:49:36.151-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Part twenty-one'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank started walking toward the group. He has known that Smalls would be here since he sent him an anonymous tip about Les walking. Smalls didn't care if Les walked, but he did care if he walked with his share of the money. When Frank mentioned that, Smalls had almost choked on the food he was eating while they were on the phone. Frank thought he was going to have to call 911 for the big man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had also known that this would be the best way to get Les out of the tunnels. To make sure he knew where he would be. Frank still needed to go down into the tunnels and figure out the next move. He wasn't ready to totally walk away yet, he just wanted everyone to think that he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Les, Indigo, what is Smalls doing here? I thought that you were out of the country until the job was over?" Frank said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it to ground it into the pavement. He waited to answer Frank. He knew that waiting would cause Frank to grow impatient. Impatience and anger were the only things Les had on his side right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les took a deep breath and looked from Indigo to Smalls and then to Frank. He paused again and began to speak. "Frank, I think it is time to walk away. I called Smalls and got him on a plane early this morning. We always said that we would know when to walk away. I think that this is the job we need to pass on to someone else."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think that would be a mistake..." Indigo interrupted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A big mistake. Especially since we have others waiting to be paid," Smalls said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The other guys will be fine with walking away. They trust me and won't..."Les said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank cleared his throat to interrupt. "We are not walking away. We are going to do this job and follow it through, but we are going to do it my way. I am in charge of this crew and the jobs that we take. Les you need to take a walk. We all appreciate everything that you have done, but I will take it from here. You will get your share, just after the job is over. We will meet at our usual place to do the split."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can I trust you? If we go through with this job I will be a part of it from beginning to end. I will not walk away without everyone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then you will let me take the lead and take a step down. I am in charge now, and the two of you are just along for the ride. I make all the decisions, or I walk away with my crew."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5483914469877505838?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5483914469877505838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/04/heist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5483914469877505838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5483914469877505838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/04/heist.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-207388551282617289</id><published>2009-02-21T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T18:45:20.317-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part twenty'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>"Where is he?" demanded Les as he got out of his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. He said he was on his way!" Indigo yelled over the noise in the warehouse parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn it. I have wasted a whole day waiting on people. He better show up. He didn't tell you what he wanted to talk about on the phone?" Les demanded again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indigo was more than irritated. People just didn't demand things from her, and especially not Les. She was in charge of this job. She had brought him in on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, you need to get yourself under control. It is not doing anyone any good for you to lose your temper. If he doesn't show I will send someone to track him down and eliminate him. We don't need him anymore and you were planning on doing at the end of the job anyway. This will just expedite the process," Indigo said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you look. You will not eliminate him. That would only bring suspicion from everyone else working the job. He has got to show back up or the plan is ruined," said Les, a little calmer than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The longer Les stood there, the more he thought that it was time to walk away. There were too many things going wrong and he still couldn't shake that uncomfortable feeling. Now they were waiting on Smalls to show up and he had some kind of problem with what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then Smalls' car pulled into the warehouse parking lot. He skidded to a stop right in front of them. He got out and and slammed the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I demand to know what is going on," Smalls said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know what you are talking about! We are getting ready to pull the job. Either you are in or you are out. If you're in then you need to go along with the plan that we all agreed to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then Les looked up and could see Frank turning down the road leading to the warehouse. What the hell was going on? Frank was supposed to be down in the tunnels today. The last thing that he needed was to deal with Frank and Smalls. How was he going to explain why Smalls was there at the warehouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to get out of here. Right now." Les said as he started shoving Smalls back into his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am not going anywhere. I brought this job to you and I want my share, and I want to know what is going on." Smalls insisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?" Indigo asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got a call this morning saying the job was off. The guy was "anonymous" party with some kind of stake in the job." Smalls said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, Frank pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse. All three looked up and saw Frank get out of his car and start walking toward them. Len knew it was time to walk away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-207388551282617289?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/207388551282617289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist_21.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/207388551282617289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/207388551282617289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist_21.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-3666977625866230477</id><published>2009-02-02T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T18:17:18.066-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part nineteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Les walked all the tunnels in about an hour and twenty minutes. He was able to find where the bank was located. He also found a good hiding place to wait for Frank. He had been waiting now for about an hour. He was starting to wonder if Frank was actually going to come down today. He had managed to keep his anxiety under control, but if he didn't get out of here he was going to lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then his phone lit up the tunnel he had been waiting in. He looked to see who it was. Damn, Indigo. He was hoping to avoid her until the meeting tonight. She was always able to mess with his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," he answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you?" she asked insistently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We have a problem here at the warehouse," she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What...a problem?" He asked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Smalls is on his way here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He is supposed to be on a vacation." Les said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know...that's the problem. What do you want me to do?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who is there with you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Carlos is the only one. He came by this morning to do some work." Indigo answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, I will be there shortly. If he shows up before I get there stall him outside. The last thing I want is for Carlos to know he is there. Keep him outside, do you hear me, outside," Les yelled into the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Calm down...I will keep him outside. I had already planned to do that anyway. Get here as soon as you can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was Smalls changing the plan. They had made this plan months ago. That feeling of dread was coming back. He was starting wonder if they should walk away from this job altogether.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-3666977625866230477?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3666977625866230477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist_02.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/3666977625866230477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/3666977625866230477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist_02.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-161873718352052838</id><published>2009-02-01T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T09:07:17.000-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part eighteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Parker looked down and saw that Frank was calling back. He sat and thought about what he was getting ready to do. He wasn't sure this was the right thing to do or not. He knew he was going to have to decide quick. His phone got to the fourth ring and he picked it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parker here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parker, Frank. What's going on? I got your message...is there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; wrong that we need to discuss? I have a very busy day ahead of me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Frank, I don't want to talk about this over the phone. I need to meet with you now, before you go down into the tunnels," Parker explained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, where are you right now?" Frank asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am at my apartment downtown. Can you come here?" Parker asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I am only a few blocks away. I will be there in about ten minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank hung up and his mind started to run wild. Why did Parker need to meet with him? And why must it be before he went down in the tunnels? He walked the five blocks to Parker's apartment building in record time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood across the street at the coffee shop an watched for a few minutes. He wanted to make sure that this was not a trap. He didn't see any sign of anyone else at Parker's or staking out his apartment. He also had not caught a glimpse of his tail all morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He climbed the 16 flights of stairs just in case he had missed his tail. He glanced down at his watch and realized that it had taken him 15 minutes to get to Parker's apartment. He was still wondering what this was all about when he tapped on the door. He was anxious and wanted to get out of the hallway. Parker answered the door and ushered him inside quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Frank. What some coffee?" Parker asked as he stepped in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nah, I'm good. What's up? I need to get to the tunnels. I have a lot to do today before we meet this evening."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sit down. This will take a few minutes," Parker said as he gestured toward the nearest chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank sat and began to listen to the story that Parker was telling. Most of it he already knew. Parker told him about how Indigo, Smalls, and Les had been meeting before the job. Then he told him about their plan to eliminate everyone but him before the job was over. This only confirmed what Frank had feared. Then Parker told him that Les was down in the tunnels right now waiting for him. He was going to hide out and confront him down there today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last piece of information took Frank by surprise. He knew the big man was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;irrationally&lt;/span&gt; afraid of closed in spaces. He found it difficult that he would be able to wait for him to show up down there. However, he also knew that if Les wanted him gone bad enough he would do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Parker finished speaking he waited for Frank to speak. He could tell he was taking it all in and deciding on his course of action. He was afraid that maybe Frank did not believe him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, that is an interesting story," Frank finally said. "I am especially entertained by the part that Les is down there in those tunnels right now waiting for me. I think I will make the big man wait."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker looked at Frank and tried to figure out what he thought about his involvement. He had once been very close with Frank, but it had been a long time since they had really spoken about anything but the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parker, why are you telling me all this?" Frank asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well...I started thinking about what was going on and I had a crisis of conscience."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't believe that is it. I think you know that they are not going to let you walk away from this job either. In fact, I think you know that Les is planning to be the only one to walk away from this job. Where do you think Bones stands on all this? Do you think they have spoken to him as well?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am not sure, but I don't really think so. The only reason they pulled me in was because they all needed clean papers to leave the country. What are you planning to do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I need to talk to Carlos and Bones. I am also not going back down into the tunnels today. I walked all of them yesterday anyway so I know the ins and outs. I am not going to give Les his shot today. He is going to have to be a little more creative. We have a meeting with everyone tonight at 7:00pm. I will contact you later about a meeting later tonight. I will caution you that I have had a tail since the job started. Be aware that you probably have one too. Stay here as much as you can. I will see you at seven." Frank said and turned and walked out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank descended the stairs at a good clip. He needed to get somewhere that he could think. Parker hadn't ask him about the manila envelope he was carrying. Maybe he was not going to need its contents after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-161873718352052838?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/161873718352052838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/161873718352052838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/161873718352052838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/heist.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5676575873006929791</id><published>2009-01-31T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T20:12:50.670-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part seventeen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Les got a haircut and headed over to the tunnels. As he descended the stairs to the underground labyrinth his heart began to beat faster and faster as though it was going to burst out of his chest. He could feel the walls closing in on him already. He had not even made it all the way down to the tunnels yet. His claustrophobia was getting ridiculous. When this job was over he was going to have to see a hypnotist or an acupuncturist or someone to help him get rid of this problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les set the timer on his cell phone for two hours. He figured that Frank would be here by noon, and it was already ten. He needed to cover a lot of ground in the next two hours. He tried to concentrate on the job and how he was going to pull it off in the next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Les was walking around in the tunnels trying to feel his way through in the darkness, Bones was upstairs in the lobby of the bank getting ready to unlock the doors for the morning. Feeling slightly edgy he decided to make his coffee a little Irish that morning. He had been up way too late last night. He could feel the last 48 hours in his entire body. He wondered what the next 48 had in store for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker had stayed up all night making papers for Indigo, Les, and Smalls. He had decided that he would just lay low after the job. The others were going to get out of the country, but since he wouldn't be on the front lines no one would be looking for him. About 4am he started to feel a little guilty about agreeing to keep secrets from Frank. Frank had always taken care of him. He was the one that recommended him for the group. He stood up for him with Les and Indigo at different times. He had decided about 6am that he was not going to be able to go through with what they had asked him to do, even if it did mean he would get Frank's share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked up the phone and dialed Frank's number. It went to voicemail. He didn't know what to say so he didn't leave a message, the first time. The second time he called he left a message for Frank to call him. He hoped that he would hear back from him before his 2:00pm meeting with Les and Indigo. They were supposed to discuss their plan of action for the rest of the job. He needed Frank on his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Frank left the cafe he felt his phone buzz with a voicemail. He looked down and saw that it was Parker who had called. He wondered what Parker had to talk to him about. He dialed his voicemail and waited to hear the message. Parker wanted to meet with him right now. He dialed his number and waited while it rang. Once, twice, three times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5676575873006929791?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5676575873006929791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_5035.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5676575873006929791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5676575873006929791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_5035.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-1813084492928022408</id><published>2009-01-31T11:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T15:09:13.218-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part sixteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank went into the office for about an hour that morning. He needed to pass off the things in his inbox so that he could concentrate on the job, and what he was going to do. He had been up all night thinking about his plan. He had a very good idea of what had happened to Gary all those years ago, and realized that he very well could have ended up in the same situation. Thankfully, he had gotten his emotions under control this past year and was able to seek out the help from Carlos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had put a tail on Les after seeing the pictures last night. He also knew that Les would head down to the tunnels this morning. After Frank finished up wrapping up the loose ends at the office he was going to meet an old friend for breakfast. After breakfast he planned to head down to the tunnels. He wanted to give Les some time. He had no desire to run into him down there. If Les said the wrong thing to Frank it would be all over with. Frank knew he had to play it cool. He had to lay low and keep himself under control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Betty, I am going to be out of the office for at least a week. Could you please make sure that Tim gets these papers?" Frank said to his secretary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, Frank. Is everything all right? Is it your mom again? Please give her my best. I have really missed talking to her these past few months," Betty said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, she has missed talking to you. The home just doesn't give her the privileges that the apartment did. It is really a shame. No she is fine. I really just need a vacation," Frank replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good for you! You haven't had one of those in two years! See you when you get back. I will hold down the fort here. If anything urgent comes up I will let you know, otherwise you won't hear a thing from me!" Betty said genuinely smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, Betty! I will see you soon." Frank said and really meant it. Betty was one of his favorite people. She really cared about Frank and so many other people. If he could he would take her away from all of this and show her what it was like to really live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had spent so much time together at work that Frank felt like her knew better than anyone else. He had never let anyone get too close. Gary was the closest, and then Les, but both of them were kept at arm's length. Betty knew almost everything there was to know about Frank. This was his one little secret that he kept from her. After this job he planned to quit this job and ask Betty out to dinner. Once this was over maybe he could finally start living as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank walked out of the office building into the blinding California sunlight. He could smell the honeysuckle that was growing in a pot by the front lobby doors. Honeysuckle always reminded him of his childhood. Every spring and summer the honeysuckle would grow wild on his parents' farm in Kentucky. Oh how he missed Kentucky in the summer time. Blackberries, fresh tomatoes, running around barefoot, and the smell of sweet honeysuckle permeating everything. Those days were long gone though and it didn't do him any good to focus on the past. He had to stay in the moment and get this job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked north to meet his friend at the cafe down the street from his office. This was where they always meant, but today was a little different. He had known Mike for too many years. Mike had introduced him to a life of crime back in the day. They had stolen their first pack of cigarettes together. Now they meant every week just to keep in touch. Usually, they did not talk business because they ran in different circles, but today was definitely going to be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank saw Mike as soon as he opened the door to the cafe. He was drinking his third cup of coffee and smoking his third cigarette. Frank knew this because Mike was always thirty minutes early. He liked his cigarettes and coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Frank," Mike said as Frank slid into the booth across from him. He extended his hand and Mike took it and shook it like the old friends that they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Were you able to get them?" Frank asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I got all the papers you will need once the job is done. And they are clean. I had Karen run them through just to make sure. No one else knows about this. Just the three of us, and you know we can trust Karen." Mike answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great! I really owe you one, man." Frank said solemnly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nah, you don't owe me man. I have owed you for years for saving Karen's life. I don't know what I would do without her. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to make me guess?" Mike asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mike, I would tell you, but I think that you guys will be better off not knowing. In this case ignorance really is bliss. I will get in touch with you when I am out clean. I will be back in a matter of months. I just want you to have deniabilty in this situation." Frank explained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I trust you man. I just wish I could do more to help, " Mike said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They spent the rest of the time they had together eating and reminiscing. Frank was going to miss Mike. They had never gone more than two weeks without seeing each other since they were sixteen. Frank really hoped he had made the right decision.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-1813084492928022408?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1813084492928022408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/1813084492928022408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/1813084492928022408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_31.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5749902907051851270</id><published>2009-01-22T07:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T07:14:45.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay....let's take a step back a moment</title><content type='html'>Okay...so I am trying to figure out how to wrap this up. I feel like I could keep going and going and going without and end in sight, but...frankly...I am getting a little bit bored with these characters. I am trying to get inside their heads and figure out what they would do, but I am afraid that I am failing miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...if you are reading this...please help! Do the characters seem real to you? Do you want me finish this? What do YOU think should happen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5749902907051851270?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5749902907051851270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/okaylets-take-step-back-moment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5749902907051851270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5749902907051851270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/okaylets-take-step-back-moment.html' title='Okay....let&apos;s take a step back a moment'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4371068421027282566</id><published>2009-01-19T07:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T08:04:08.045-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part fifteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Les woke early the next day. He was agitated and more than a little on edge. He knew that something bad was coming, but he just chalked up to his plan. He had not shared that part of the plan with Indigo. She was confident that she would live through the job to see all the money they would split two ways. He could see her calculating it when they were meeting last night, but he knew differently. Most people were so easy to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;deceive&lt;/span&gt;. He had lived with his deception most of his life. He was glad to be considering retirement. He was tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the sun came up over the hills he could see all the dirty spots on his window. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; sun came in at just the right angle he was able to see all the dirty spots on all the windows and mirrors in the room. Most mornings this did not bother him, but this morning it caused him to be a bit more agitated. He had to get out of the room or he would have to spend the morning cleaning. He just didn't have the time for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got up and walked slowly over to the bathroom. He was able to brush his disheveled hair and decided to get a haircut before he went to the tunnel. He needed something that he didn't have to worry about. He dressed for the day in jeans and an old shirt. He had planned out his day and knew that he was probably going to get dirty today climbing around in all those tunnels. He didn't want to ruin any of his nice clothes. For a large man he really did like his clothes. This thought brought a smile to his face. He remembered his father telling him as he dressed to go out to hustle pool that the clothes made the man. He was more than a little sad to leave behind all these clothes, but he knew that if he took anything it would make it look like he had been involved and planned to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast was a cup of coffee and a cigarette. He didn't have time for much more. He had to get down to those tunnels before Frank. He was able to find a couple of hiding places if they happened to run into each other, but Les thought this was unlikely since Frank would be headed down there this afternoon instead of this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he walked down the stairs to his car he felt a little uneasy. This uneasiness had become his friend in the last few days. He was usually a very peaceful, centered guy. But not this week. He kept trying to chalk it up to the importance of this job, but he just couldn't shake it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4371068421027282566?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4371068421027282566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_19.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4371068421027282566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4371068421027282566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_19.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-851914611483644378</id><published>2009-01-16T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T12:25:02.112-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part fourteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>When Frank arrived at the warehouse everyone was already there. He was running a little late so he wasn't surprised to see everyone sitting around when he entered the room. Les looked agitated. Not necessarily with Frank, but just in general. Frank could hardly wait to hear the lies that were going to spew forth from his mouth during this meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les and Indigo had met and discussed moving the job along quickly. They had decided to tell everyone that they had gotten some inside intel that the bank was going to change out their vault next week so they were going to have move much quicker than anticipated. They called Bones and told him they would cut him in on a larger share if he went along with the new story. He didn't ask too many questions. Money was money to him. He didn't really care who he had to lie to in order to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les was finding it difficult to calm down after the day. He had spent a long time down in the tunnels and he did not like enclosed spaces. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was going terribly wrong, but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. Usually when he got this feeling this early in a job they just backed out, but they had come too far now to turn back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After everyone gave their reports on the day, Les spent about an hour outlining the new plan for them. He explained that they would move in two days. This meant that Bones was going to have to get in there and gather a lot of information very quickly, and that Parker was going to have to map out the cyber part of the heist even quicker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The energy in the room was electric. Les felt like if he moved he would be shocked. This worried him a little. Agitation was never good when you were getting ready to pull off a job as big as this. He was going to have to find a way to calm down, even though he would have to go back into the tunnels tomorrow after Frank finished his tour of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-851914611483644378?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/851914611483644378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_16.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/851914611483644378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/851914611483644378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_16.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4956390929379371565</id><published>2009-01-08T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T07:48:59.698-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part thirteen'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank got to the post office box about an hour before he was supposed to be at the meeting. He knew that Carlos would have the information that he needed. Before he went in he decided to walk around the block. He hadn't seen anyone following him, but he wanted to make sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned the corner down a blind alley. This time of night there were bums sleeping off their nightly binge and the garbage had been taken out at the clubs nearby so the stench was horrible. No one would think to come down alley looking for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knew that Les was meeting with Indigo before the meeting with all of them at 2:00. He would still be at the warehouse so that he would the first one there. That was his special brand of control. He was so predictable. That was why Frank thought someone would be following him. Les usually had someone follow him all the time. Even when they weren't working a job. It didn't bother Frank because he knew to expect it. But he had always been able to shake the tail when headed to this P.O. box. This was he and Carlos' little secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He peered around the corner and sure enough about two minutes behind him was the tail. Frank was glad to see that it was not anyone from the group. He watched as the tail kept walking down the street looking for him. He saw him turn into a strip club that was at the end of the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank entered the mailbox store with his personal key. He went over to the box and opened it. The dossier on Smalls was there. He moved over to the desk and opened up the thick folder. The first pictures he saw were of Smalls and Indigo with a time and date stamp on them from two years ago. So she did know him, and well. When he looked a little further he found pictures of Smalls, Indigo, and Les stamped as early as two months ago. So, Les had been in on this from the beginning. Frank's mind started to race. Gary's last job came to his mind immediately. He remembered that Les had made it a point to meet with him before involving Gary and the others. He had said it was to get all the details in order before they involved the whole group. At the time this had seemed reasonable to Frank, but now it seemed odd. Why had Les met with Indigo and Smalls before he met with Frank? What other meetings had he held that Frank was not aware of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was so deep in thought that when the alarm on his phone went off he jumped. He knew he needed to get to his car and drive over to the warehouse, but his feet were cemented to the floor of the mailbox store. He was going to have to be very careful and do some more investigating of his own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4956390929379371565?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4956390929379371565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4956390929379371565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4956390929379371565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_08.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5112326085686644198</id><published>2009-01-06T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T13:48:47.272-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part twelve'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Les took the time to get acquainted with his surroundings before he went to meet Indigo. The underground tunnels seemed to go on forever. He needed to know them like the back of his hand, and fast. Originally he had decided that the job would take about two, maybe three months, but now it was going to have to take about two to three weeks, tops. It would be great if they could get it done in a week, but Les knew this would be almost impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The longer the job drug out the longer he would have to deal with Frank. The others he could handle, but Frank was going to present some problems. He always knew that he would, but he hoped that his anger would kick in and cause him to lose sight of everything they had worked for all these years. He should have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;known&lt;/span&gt; that this one would be too hard for Frank to resist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main tunnel had many smaller secondary tunnels. Each was jutting off from the main tunnel on his right hand side. He knew by the schematics that the fifth one was the tunnel that led up to the bank. Some of the other tunnels led to other downtown merchants, and some were dead ends. The schematics had all the tunnels marked the same so he was going to have to walk each one to determine if they were dead ends or not. As he walked through the tunnel he could hear the tinny echo of his footsteps. He stopped for a moment to make sure that he did not hear any other footsteps down in the tunnels. All the merchants on the street above had access to their tunnel entrances, but not many used them. He wanted to make sure that no one was sharing the tunnels with him this evening. When  he was sure that the only sounds were the water dripping in various parts of the tunnel he continued his walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked down each tunnel to see if there was a light source coming from the ends. Despite all his hopes there were none. All the tunnels were dark and most of them had at least one bend in them so it was impossible to see past to the end. He was just going to have to walk each one of them. He wondered how many Frank had gotten through earlier in the day. He would have to make a mental note to ask him tonight during the meeting. Let him know he was following up on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The luminescent glow of his phone lit up the entire tunnel as it began to ring. He looked at who was calling and saw that it was Indigo. He decided to let it go to voice mail. He was in no mood for her at the moment. He would be glad to get a fresh start when this job was over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5112326085686644198?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5112326085686644198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_06.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5112326085686644198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5112326085686644198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_06.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2175253692793256461</id><published>2009-01-03T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T20:29:59.125-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part eleven'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Parker lived in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; world all his own. He rarely ever ventured out except when had to, like today. Most of the time he spent his days and nights holed up in his little two room apartment that had all the latest computer equipment in it. He liked living as far off the grid as possible. As soon as he could he was going to move to Montana and live completely off the grid. He already powered his entire apartment with solar panels and didn't use any unnecessary electricity. Most people did not think this was possible in the city, but he knew it could be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had started working with this group about three years ago. He had replaced some other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; geek that had gone on to work in the straight world. He couldn't handle being a hacker. Especially not for a bunch of criminals. Parker had met him one time and he was actually indignant about the fact that they were criminals. He never even acknowledged the fact that hacking was a criminal act as well. Most hackers were like that though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Parker was honest with himself. He lived off very few non-renewable resources, but he knew that what he did to afford his lifestyle was dishonest and down right illegal. He hadn't been caught yet, but he also knew that it was just a matter of time. That's why this job was so appealing to him. This would be it. He would have what he needed to move out to Montana and set up his "green" house. He had already designed the straw bale house he was going to build and put a down payment on the land. All he needed was the rest of the cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker knew there was some politics to this group, but he tried not to get involved with all of that. However, he was not stupid. He kept tabs on everyone between jobs just to be on the safe side. He had noticed contact between Indigo and Les about three weeks ago. He had also noticed that Indigo had started communicating with Smalls about two years ago. Parker was a little worried about their motives, but the money was too good to turn down. When his phone started buzzing he knew it would be Indigo with a time for the meeting. He would have to venture out once more today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All in a day's work," he thought to himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2175253692793256461?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2175253692793256461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_03.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2175253692793256461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2175253692793256461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist_03.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2086563458314007157</id><published>2009-01-01T14:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T14:16:55.070-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part ten'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Interviewing for the position had been a cinch for Bones. He was just the right build, and had charisma. His charm had won him many positions in the past, including on this team of criminals. He had just walked into the bank and told them he was the guy they needed and they believed him. The mark always made it way too easy for Bones. That was why he could never resist a good con. It was a game to him, and he never lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was sitting in a Starbucks when he got the call from Indigo. Now there was a sneaky one. She wanted everyone to think that she had just learned about the job this morning, but Bones knew better. She would never cross Les. Bones had always thought that the two of them had something going, but he could never prove it. When Gary died he became keenly aware of the lengths that Les would go to in order to get his way though. Bones had made the mistake of walking back down to the alley behind the store to see what was taking them so long and stumbled upon the two of them in a heated conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les was trying to convince Gary to do something with the muzzle of his gun shoved into his face, and Gary was resisting. Bones never got close enough to hear what was going on because before he knew it he heard sirens. He turned to walk away like they had decided when he heard a shot ring out from behind him. When he found out that Gary had died he could never decide whether it was the police who had shot Gary or Les. Bones did not want to personally find out. He just kept his mouth shut and his head down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This job was his chance to move into the big time. He had always wanted to be a part of a bigger crime family. With this job on his resume he would easily be able to break into the big time! His only worry was Frank and Les. The two of them could be like flint and steel, igniting if you looked at them wrong. He was going to have to be careful and watch his back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he was going to have to find some way to waste time until 2:00am. Sleep would be nice, but he was afraid that he might not be able to sleep since he was so keyed up. There was always the club. He was part owner of a strip club &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;downtown&lt;/span&gt; and he usually frequented it when he was working a job. Tonight would be no different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2086563458314007157?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2086563458314007157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2086563458314007157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2086563458314007157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/heist.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5816570076424526324</id><published>2008-12-27T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T18:49:44.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part nine'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Indigo stepped out into the bright light of the sun for the first time since early that morning. She had been up since sunrise preparing for the meeting. She drove over to the warehouse early to meet Les and Smalls. Both could be infuriating. Smalls had presented them with the job a few weeks ago. They had waited until today to present it to the group. Les thought it best to wait until all the leg work was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had had Indigo researching everything from the history of the bank itself to Smalls. He wanted all the dirt. After everything had checked out Les had met with Indigo alone and they had planned the whole job down to the meeting this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had been unable to sleep for several days now. She knew how the job was going to end, but refused to accept that this was the end for all of them. Six of them would enter the bank, but only two would walk away. She wasn't even sure that Les really expected two of them to walk away, but she had some tricks up her sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and Smalls had known each other for many years. They had pulled some small jobs together back in the day. She didn't trust Smalls anymore than she trusted any of the others, she just knew him better. He wasn't capable of too much deception. He was about as transparent as a piece of dirty glass. Before they had talked to Les the first time they had met and made their plan. Smalls thought he was walking away with his fortune as well. Everyone was blinded by greed. Everyone but Indigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indigo was lost in thought when her cell phone started buzzing. "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Warehouse, 11:00pm, everyone else 2:00am." The gruff voice ordered.&lt;br /&gt;"Fine," she said as she rang off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les was too arrogant. He thought he could control her and her every movement. Well, he was sorely mistaken, she thought as she began making the calls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5816570076424526324?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5816570076424526324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5816570076424526324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5816570076424526324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_27.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4848801295990978252</id><published>2008-12-22T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:22:56.989-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part eight'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank saw Carlos move to the other side of the fountain. Why was he hiding from him? Then Frank saw him, Les. Les was still following him. He thought that he had lost him when they turned off of the freeway. Oh well, this wasn't the first time Les had followed him, just the first time he had followed him to a meeting with Carlos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was going to have to make this short and sweet with Carlos. He waited until exactly twelve and Carlos walked over to the bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Frankie boy! What's with the secret meeting? You have me a little worried." Carlos asked when he walked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, man. I know you saw Les following me. Don't worry about it. He does it quite often. He wants to make sure I am doing what I said I would. I am going to make this quick. That way we can get out of here. I want you to go in and find out everything you can about this Kenneth Smalls. I feel like Les was able to do the homework on him, and there is something he isn't telling us. When can you have it done?" Frank asked in a hushed voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can have that for you tonight. Where do you want to meet?" Carlos asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to take a chance of Les following me again. He has you on his radar as well now. Put it in a large brown envelope and take it to the P.O. box, you know the one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I know which one. I will have there by midnight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great. I am sure we will get a call from Les about a progress meeting. Act normal. Go to the meeting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank shook hands with Carlos and they both went their separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les watched them talk for five minutes then shake hands and head out of the park. He was going to have to move the plan along a lot faster than he had originally thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4848801295990978252?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4848801295990978252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_6535.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4848801295990978252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4848801295990978252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_6535.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-5080621770316307396</id><published>2008-12-22T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:11:44.625-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part seven'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Carlos arrived at the park about thirty minutes before Frank was supposed to meet him. He wanted to see what direction Frank was coming from. The entire day had just been weird and he wanted to be sure that Frank wasn't trying to double cross him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlos remembered when Frank had asked him to join the group. Carlos has been working a hit and run scam in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Reseda&lt;/span&gt; and Frank had crashed the job. What most people didn't know was that Frank was actually a claims adjuster for an insurance company. Everyone knew he had a job, but not what he did. The only reason Carlos knew is because Frank had busted him. Frank told him that he saw his potential so took him under his wing and asked him to join the group. That was about ten years ago now. Time really flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlos was also looking to make this his last job. He had met a girl last year during the jewelry heist and they fell in love. He had kept her from asking too many questions about what he did for a living, but he would not be able to put her off too much longer. He had bought her a ring and he planned to ask her to marry him. Now he could do it after this job and neither of them would ever have to work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlos looked up at ten minutes to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;twelve&lt;/span&gt; and saw Frank walking toward the park. He knew Frank would be early, he was always early. He watched Frank walk over to their meeting place and open the paper. A couple minutes later, Carlos got up to walk over to Frank and caught a glimpse of Les entering the park. What was Les doing here? The code that Frank had given Carlos meant that the meeting was just between the two of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlos wondered if Frank knew that Les was following him. He also wondered if he should say something to Frank or just wait and see what happened during the meeting. He decided to wait until exactly noon to meet Frank. He started to walking over to the bench and hid behind the fountain to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les entered the park about two minutes after Frank. He had been following him since he left the warehouse. He was either so angry that he had not seen the tail or he was letting Les follow him for a trap. Les was fairly sure it was not the latter. Frank was not very observant when he was angry. Les knew that when he left he had been very angry and just trying to keep it under control. He had followed him to the gym, and then to the entrance to the tunnels under the bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't go down there without being seen or heard so he got a cup of coffee at the shop across the street and waited. He watched as Bones came out of the bank with the job. He was acting like a kid in a candy store. Les made a mental note to call them together later tonight to find out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Frank had come out of the tunnels he followed him here to the park. This was a strange place for Frank to go. Frank was not really an outdoorsy kind of guy. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; the weather changed Frank got a cold. He was also so pale that ten minutes in direct sunlight would make him look like a lobster. No, Frank spent his leisure time indoors. This was not a relaxing lunch in the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Les rounded the corner he spotted Carlos. Ah, Carlos. That was why Frank had come to the park. Les wondered if Carlos saw him. Now, Carlos, he was observant. He kept a level head, and was sensitive to his surroundings. Les was going to have to get out of sight and quick. Not only was he level headed and quick, but he was also as loyal as a puppy to Frank.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-5080621770316307396?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5080621770316307396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5080621770316307396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/5080621770316307396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_22.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-8124406444220986470</id><published>2008-12-18T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T13:45:21.727-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part six'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank walked out of the warehouse and over to his car. He decided to drive to the gym to hit a few bags before going over to the tunnels. Over the last three months he had spent almost two hours every day at the gym. The boxing had really helped him keep his anger under control. During the computer job he had realized how much anger clouded his judgement and had vowed to work on getting it under control. Part of him felt responsible for Gary's death and part of him suspected that Indigo was involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank had also vowed to find out exactly what happened that day. He had not turned up any new information in quite awhile. Everything looked cut and dry. A storefront scam gone bad. The inside man, dead, the rest of the group never found. At least that was what all the papers had said. Frank knew there was more to it than that, but had not been able to find out what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Frank drove in the direction of the gym he wondered why Les had wanted him to lose his temper. He also wondered why Les had lied to him, and what he had lied about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he left the warehouse he had stopped to talk to Carlos. He and Carlos had decided on a code word to let the other one know where to meet later. Frank had asked him to meet him at the park at noon. Frank glanced down at his watch and noticed that it was already 10:00. He would have to hurry and hit the bags then rush to meet Carlos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something deep inside that was bothering Frank. Hopefully his workout would give him the time he needed to think about it and figure it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-8124406444220986470?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8124406444220986470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_18.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8124406444220986470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8124406444220986470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_18.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-2849556244584023552</id><published>2008-12-16T05:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T20:05:09.641-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part five'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Les walked over to the table where the schematics had been laid out. Frank followed, but at a distance. Les could feel his eyes boring into him again. He knew that he was going to have to confront Frank and it was not going to be pretty. Frank had a temper and when it got out of control no one was safe from his wrath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Frank, could you help me take a look at these schematics? We need to start deciding our best route in and out. I also want to make sure none of the tunnels have been blocked off. We haven't looked at these for at least a year now," Les said as he continued to walk toward the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure." Frank said coldly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les knew this was going to be a problem. But he hadn't realized how much of a problem it was. Frank was clearly skeptical of the whole job. He had to put his mind at ease and quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they both got to the table Les shot Frank a knowing glance. "Hey, Frank, what if Gary could see us now? I really wish he was here to help us with this job. Indigo called me this morning and I demanded to know the specifics. We really need to talk about her motives, I am a little skeptical of all this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank looked at Les and took in everything about his face. He could tell Les was lying, but about what he was not entirely certain. Frank was pretty sure that Les wouldn't know the truth if it came up and bit him in the ass, but he could usually tell what he was lying about, and he didn't often lie to Frank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank forced his voice to soften. "Yeah me too. Gary would have loved this. You know this was what he really wanted us to do when we took on that computer scam. I wonder if things would have been different if we could have figured out a way to get inside then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Man, I know. I think about it everyday. What do you think our first move is on this job?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think that I need to go down and walk the tunnels. The only way we are going to know if everything is still open is to actually walk them. I can also track the traffic patterns down there. I am pretty sure that no one uses them anymore, but you never know. There could be some kids down there squatting or something," Frank said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I think that is a good idea, why don't you head out now. I can handle everything here. We only have about ten minutes left before the bank opens and it will be quiet until this evening anyway," Les replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank nodded and started to walk out the door. He stopped to talk to Carlos on his way out. Les watched him until the door swung closed. He wondered how he was going to handle all this. He had made a plan long ago, but things weren't going quite as he had expected. Les had been counting on Frank losing his temper. When anger was clouding his judgement it was much easier to control Frank.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-2849556244584023552?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2849556244584023552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2849556244584023552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/2849556244584023552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_16.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4286225406028334836</id><published>2008-12-14T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T19:00:33.717-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part four'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Everyone started to get to work. Time was of the essence, and they all knew it. Les was aware of how Frank was staring at him. He wondered how much Frank had figured out by now. He and Frank had been in "business" together for about twenty years now. They could finish each other's sentences and as far as Frank knew they had never tried to con one another. Until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les' motto had always been to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. He had never considered Frank a friend. He knew more about Frank than most people knew about the person they were married to. When he first met Frank they had been introduced by the head of another group of criminals that Frank had been a part of, Gary. Gary was a genius. He could smell a job, and knew when things had gone south. It took Les a long time to learn everything he needed to from Gary and then find a way to get rid of him. Gary hung around like a bad cough in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had the opportunity to eliminate Gary as a threat about five years ago. Les had presented the group with a job that involved a computer scam. They had set up a store front operation, and things went south quickly. Les had been the real inside man for that job and walked away with seven figures in his pocket when it was all said and done, however everyone else just walked away, except Gary. Les had it set up that Gary would either take the fall for the job or lose his life. In the end Gary had done both. Frank of course was devastated. Les knew that he would be. Gary was their mentor after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group was the same as it was during the computer job. He had pulled Indigo in on the scam at the last minute. She proved to be a real asset and able to keep her mouth shut. However, he knew that eventually he would have to eliminate her as well. The thing about his motto was that Les didn't have any friends, so all of his enemies felt like family. Each one with their own story, and their own role to play. Once that story was over, Les was free to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4286225406028334836?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4286225406028334836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_14.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4286225406028334836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4286225406028334836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_14.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-6212123532148984258</id><published>2008-12-13T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:25:55.123-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part three'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Frank stood quietly and walked to the front of the room. He could feel Les' eyes boring into him. He knew the big man was wondering what Frank was going to say. Frank was wondering the same thing. On one hand, he was ready for this opportunity and ready to retire. On the other, he was more than a little skeptical of Mr. Smalls. What were his motives, where did he come from, how did he find their group? He knew that the preparations for this heist were going to take at least three months. Would Large be willing to wait that long? He seemed a bit antsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Indigo. She had never called them all together without first meeting with him and Les privately. Had she already met with Les? If that was the case why hadn't Les called him for the meeting. No, he was sure she made this decision by herself and Les was the first person she had called. Had he demanded to have the specifics before coming? Frank was very uneasy about the whole situation. No matter how enticing the situation may seem, he wanted to keep his wits about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Frank cleared his throat, he looked around the room. "I can see you are all very interested in this opportunity. I have to say that I am also very interested. This is the job that we have all been working toward, but someone has to be the voice of reason in this room." As he paused he could feel the energy in the room plummet like a glass from the counter and shatter all over the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, Indigo started to cut Frank off, "Frank, we don't need you...we can do this by ourselves," she began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did not say that I would not do it, but you need to remember who has the power here. I can see that you got to Les before the meeting, and I am not sure what you said to convince him, but I need to hear all the specifics before fully committing to this job. I am personally indebted to everyone here, including you. Unlike some people in this room, I am not only looking out for myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After his speech the atmosphere in the room got a little lighter. It was becoming clearer where Frank stood and that seemed to put everyone a little more at ease. Frank knew that he really did have the power to say no to the job and the rest would follow, even Les. He glanced over at the big man. He shifted in his seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mr. Smalls, when the bank opens in thirty minutes we will have someone there to interview for the position of head security officer. We need you to disappear for a little while. You can't be anywhere near the bank during this time. Once we get our inside man set we will be in touch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, but, you need the pass code, the updated schematics..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank put up a hand to silence the stout man. "We are the professionals here, not you. We will tell you what we need. Don't get me wrong, we are thankful for your coming here and presenting the opportunity, but from here on out it is our job, or we don't do it," Frank said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indigo rose from her seat and walked over to Mr. Smalls. "Ken, we will be in touch very soon. I told you that they would want to run the show. You will find a bag by the door. Inside the bag are a passport and tickets to a relaxing destination. Take a short trip, begin your retirement in style. When you return we will be ready for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Smalls looked from Indigo to Frank. Then he shot a sideways glance at Les. He did not make eye contact with anyone else in the room. Reluctantly, he turned and walked out of the room. Once he was gone everyone began to talk at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quiet, everyone!" Les finally stood and spoke. "We must move quickly now. Bones, you will be the inside man on this one. Indigo, you need to make up some credentials for him from the agency that the bank uses. Parker you need to hack into the agency's computer system and remove all the other candidates that they have identified for the position. People, we have twenty minutes before the bank opens let's move."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank stood in shock. So Les had known about this job before the meeting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-6212123532148984258?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6212123532148984258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_13.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6212123532148984258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/6212123532148984258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_13.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-8034302919721387837</id><published>2008-12-12T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:24:17.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part two'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>Just as Indigo finished her sentence a stout-built man entered the room. As he walked to the front of the room Frank noticed that his shabby trousers did not fit him well, and he looked more than a bit uncomfortable. “I understand that you have all decided to lay low for six months, but I think you will see this opportunity comes but once in a lifetime. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kenneth Smalls, and up until this morning, I was the head security officer at the bank for fifteen years.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Frank listened he became keenly aware of the contemplation in the room. Mr. Smalls went on to describe the job. As they all knew, beneath the bank were a series of tunnels that led from one building to another. In years past they had discussed the possibility of pulling off the bank job. Our last hurdle was the presence of an inside man. The labyrinth of tunnels beneath the bank made a perfect entry point; however they were guarded by the head security officer of the bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Mr. Smalls had laid out the specifics of the job everyone grew silent. Frank knew they were all waiting to hear what he had to say. He knew the decision rest squarely on his shoulders. He and Les had hand picked this group throughout the years specifically for this job. Just Les’ presence in the room let everyone know his decision. If Les and Frank were on board the job was a go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone seemed to be nervously awaiting Frank. They took his silence to mean that he did not want to take on the job. It was quite the opposite. For Frank this was not merely another job, but he had decided long ago that the bank job would be his last job. Frank thought it better to let them all sweat a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indigo stood and Frank watched as she exchanged an odd glance with Mr. Smalls as he took her seat. Then her face became more animated than Frank had ever seen as she began to speak. “Frank, I know that you wanted us to wait six months before pulling another job just to be safe, but I beg you to consider this opportunity seriously. We have all been lying low for three months and Carlos wasn’t even questioned seriously after the last job. It’s nothing like the computer scam.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stagnant air inside the warehouse was making everyone uncomfortable as Frank continued to sit in silence. They were all aware of the grave situation that had occurred during the computer scam two years ago. But this was different, and Frank was ready to live the good life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-8034302919721387837?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8034302919721387837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_12.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8034302919721387837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/8034302919721387837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist_12.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-4962772150170156802</id><published>2008-12-11T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:26:49.363-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='part one'/><title type='text'>The Heist</title><content type='html'>“So, what’s the bright idea calling this meeting first thing in the morning?” Frank asked as he stormed through the door of the warehouse. “I would never presume to think you could get everyone here on such short notice and this early to boot. I hope you aren’t wasting my time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was very angry because he had to forfeit a whole day’s pay at his regular job to come to this meeting. The group had not been called together since before they pulled the job over at the jewelry store. They had all agreed to keep their distance for at least six months. Frank had taken a job years ago that paid a nominal salary in order to appear straight to anyone who might look into his finances. Thankfully, he had received many raises and promotions that covered how successful his career in fraud has been. This meeting was not good. Had everyone become greedy after the last job? It had only been three months and they were all taking a big chance coming here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Frank, calm down, the others are in the back room. You are the last to arrive. I have been presented with an opportunity that I wanted to discuss with everyone. We have to make a decision in an hour. That was the reason for my urgency,” Indigo said in her smooth, sleek voice that always put Frank even more on edge. She had deceived him more than once. He had never perceived her as a true threat, just someone to watch closely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indigo led Frank by the arm into the back room where the others had gathered. As Frank looked around the room he could see that Les had made it after all. He was wedged into a seat next to Carlos. His big frame made the chair look like dollhouse furniture. It was an almost comical sight. Frank shot him a sideways glance to see if he could tell what the big man was thinking, but his face was a blank slate. Frank could never read Les. That’s why they were so close. Les had taught him to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. Frank had never been able to decide which they were, friends or enemies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Frank was seated on the other side of Carlos, Indigo called everyone to order. Above the din of voices she said, “Gentlemen, I have called you here today because we have had an opportunity fall into our laps this morning. As you all know, the Los Angeles Bank and Trust has always been on our list of jobs. This morning they posted a vacancy in their security department. The past security officer paid me a visit this morning with a proposition. He is looking for a candidate to fill the position. He felt like we might know someone.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-4962772150170156802?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4962772150170156802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4962772150170156802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/4962772150170156802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/heist.html' title='The Heist'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5332588201184687604.post-7861271978572076635</id><published>2008-12-11T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T08:04:09.959-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first post'/><title type='text'>Background</title><content type='html'>I am beginning this blog in order to further my discipline in writing. My other blog is more purely the story of my life with my kids. This one will be a place for me to post what I am currently working on in my writing. I hope you follow me here as well. Please give constructive comments. This is hold me accountable and give me a creative outlet. I would also love to start a writing group that would like to post here as well. If you are interested please let me know. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5332588201184687604-7861271978572076635?l=glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7861271978572076635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/background.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7861271978572076635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5332588201184687604/posts/default/7861271978572076635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glimpsesandstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/background.html' title='Background'/><author><name>Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08558132521958915850</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnAcaU_riMI/Te5IISeXPBI/AAAAAAAABdg/IIAObeVVp-E/s220/kids%2Bat%2Bthe%2Briver.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
