Some days are just bloody days. Bloody days can be pregame days. Some bloody days are holidays. Most bloody days are full of melancholy. There isn’t a perfect bloody recipe. Some are better than others, most just follow the mood. I like them light, refreshing, and citrusy. Then, I like them spicy. Then, I like … Continue reading
A hunting memoir written for The Sporting Gent and TSG Apparel about our annual quail hunt. https://www.thesportinggent.com/blogs/dispatches/front-porch-musings-one-quail-of-a-day Continue reading
XIII Carolina Blue Skies Mac – 1994 . . . As Mac came over a hill he could see Speck reaching into his trunk and unloading several boxes of clay targets. He was quietly singing. Mac pulled over and sat down on a cedar bench by his car, unobtrusive and listening. “So they’re going to bust … Continue reading
Caches of intimate and sentimental objects tell stories. Those artifacts that inhabit spaces and places like pockets, catch-alls, and cup holders proclaim both how we have lived and what we anticipate. Our “daily carry” can be mundane, utilitarian, and perhaps thoughtless. Conversely, many exist for nostalgic yearning, pleasurable habit, and perhaps vanity. The modern man’s … Continue reading
Thanksgiving is a unique among holidays. Rivaled closely by Independence Day, by far the one I look forward to the most. Perhaps it’s the weather in North Carolina or the football we watch and play. I know it is the big one, with abundance of family and friends, just enough so you can all love … Continue reading
A perfect solunar period and the brisk and unexpected first snap of cold across a day, grey and windy. Out over the edges, he broke his head through the dense line. Above that sleek thick head, long knurled tines forked out, plastered in dark rotting bark. They swayed gently with caution in a rhythmic cadence … Continue reading
The best days in life fall into place, for the most part, unplanned. Drops that ripple through stillness of permanent chaos, experiencing joy through the serendipitous activity of youth. Mac again stumbled into one of these days, living through feelings without pausing to reflect on them. Captive in moments with a permanent grin. Today the … Continue reading
* Exodus is the first chapter in Providence: A Story by William Kelly Mac’s left foot had a subtle tingle. The outer edge of his small toes had flickered in numbness for years. The only awareness of pain from this generally unobtrusive deadness was in the dark and quiet hours when he lay awake and … Continue reading
* Gone Out West is the fifth chapter in Providence: A Story by William Kelly A grasshopper. Long and thick foam cigarette butt with appendages. Floating out there with Geppetto over the rocks. Pale foam body underneath the furry parts. A thick synthetic post over its thorax and grizzly chicken hackle spun around. Turkey wings … Continue reading
Big Haint Blue 