Hands or Head
By: Wayne Miles-Underhill You’d best find something to do with your head as you have no talent in your hands my father said to me once as he bent over his plane. I watched the curly shaves of wood float down and fur his boots. The pine smell ticked into my nose. I’m remembering those…
Keep readingDutch Treat
By: Wayne Miles-Underhill Rain was falling softly on the narrow road next to the canal just outside Teuge Holland. It soaked the canvass covers on the lorries and as a result the soldiers riding in there had to withstand a steady drip and if they weren’t already miserable on this grey April day in 1945,…
Keep readingBon Voyage
By: Wayne Miles-Underhill Jess felt his heart lurch as he watched the 727 roll down the runway on its way to Calgary with his beloved Theresa on board. She was finally leaving him. They had talked about the day that inevitably would arrive when they would say their final goodbyes and it had come at…
Keep readingI am here
By: Wayne Miles-Underhill I am here and everywhere at the same time. This may sound difficult, It defies logic, It is reality at best, a dream at worst. Will you follow me? It only takes a nanosecond to decide. Come out of your cave and see the path. Seek the answer to the question You…
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