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Confessions of the Lost: Her Fight in the Snow

BradTheDadFiction2She crouched behind the crumbled remnants of an old, stone wall and waited.

She could hear them breathing, hear the slight movements of their hands and arms coming from the signals they gave each other about her perceived whereabouts. This, along with the crunch of snow beneath their boots and sharp intakes of breath from the frigid air they were breathing gave away their exact locations. But, it was clear they did not know where she was. Knowing her location was unacceptable.

And why would they know where she was? Boys. They sent boys to kill her.

The last light of the day was slowly fading below the trees and their shadows began to stretch across the earth as if reaching for her from across a great distance. “Join the club,” she thought.

She wasn’t sure which was the bigger insult — that her ex-captors still wanted her dead after what they did to her, or that they sent these boys all this way to finish the job. After robbing her emotion and feeling, you would think they would leave it at that. Be satisfied that that was enough. That to leave her alone with the memories of their brand of torture would be punishment enough for her escape.

Alone, she was. Left alone, she was not.

She would always be alone after what they did to her. Nobody could possibly know how she felt, what she experienced in those caves. Nobody that was alive, at least. Women never left those caves, only entered. She was the first. She was on a mission of firsts, and if all went accordingly to plan, also of lasts. She, the one for whom the shadows were cast.

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Hockey Dad Tries out for Baseball Dad

BaseballBenchThe pace of baseball is completely foreign to me, the amount of rules stresses me out and my childhood memories of the game are less than glamorous.

But it’s not about me, is it?

It’s about my 6-year-old son who practically floats with excitement just being on the same field as all of his friends. The faces are even mostly the same, they are my hockey kids, only with mitts on their hands and caps on their heads. Their smiles just as I remember them from underneath their helmets. It’s becoming (painfully) clear to me that the sport itself is secondary to my little athlete and is more about playing with his friends.

So here I am, a hockey dad, and my son is playing baseball. Can I be a baseball dad too?

I don’t know the answer to that question yet, but you bet I’m going to try. It’s time that I put my own baseball cap on and get serious about this sport that is in my blood. You see, my grandfather used to scout for the Philadelphia Phillies and wrote a local sports column (I got the writing bug from him at least) called, Strictly Local. So, no more sitting idly by on the sidelines, it’s time for this hockey dad to shower his knowledge upon his son from the sidelines and maybe even teach these baseball coaches a thing or two in the process.

“Keep those knees bent, son. Head up and always be ready.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. I think it was even correct. Sure those same things apply in hockey, but nobody needs to know that.

“Great job! Way to swing that stick, er, bat.”

I need to focus a little harder here.

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Posted by on April 15, 2014 in Brad the Dad, Dads Round Table

 

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Taming the High Seas: An Adventure Story

roughseas002He squinted his eyes against the stinging, ocean spray that was assaulting his face.

The watercraft that was suddenly thrust into his hands felt awkward in his control; a foreign sensation that made him uncomfortable.  At each crest of an undulating wave, his stomach was left behind in the descent towards its trough.  Over and over again he fought against the awkwardness, willing himself to become more comfortable with this unsettling feeling.

It was important to him to master this task, not only because their adventure team was on another important mission, but because this time they had a very special passenger.

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Trapped: An Adventure Story

TrappedHe smashed his fists against the wall in frustration.

Against the wall, this barrier, that was separating him from his partner; from the person he looked up to most in this world.

He was newest member of an adventure team, and while he respected and learned much from their veteran leader, it was the individual trapped behind this wall that was the most important figure in his world.  Their leader taught him about life, but his partner was his life.

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Posted by on January 9, 2013 in Brad the Dad, Dads Round Table

 

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