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Tag: “short stories”

The Cha-Cha: 1 step back for 2 steps forward

We are in a re-beginning. The roll-out of stories, interrupted by my daddy’s death and the grief that followed, is re-starting. To get back in the groove, we’re re-turning to the last aired story,  “A Trip to the Lawyer.” It’s one of the shortest, 8 or so minutes. That’s a good thing when you’re re-warming...

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Something Different is Happening Here

I opened the hand-addressed notecard. The graceful penmanship thanked me for my short story. I flipped the envelope and read the address: the writer was my neighbor. She had read “Just Now” in Memphis Magazine when the story won its annual fiction contest. I tucked the note away with other notes I’ve received over the years,...

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What’s Going On: The Summer of Love

Right now, at this very moment, we are five stories into a fourteen story experiment. Tomorrow, we will release a new story— “Drunk at the Foodland Again”—and we will be six stories in. Many of you are listening to these stories as they are released. Some of you have subscribed at YouTube. Some subscribed to the podcast feed at caintdonothingwithlove.wordpress.com,...

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You Know What They Say Dancing Will Lead To

“The trouble started earlier that summer, about a month after my mom died from cancer and left me living alone, my dad long dead. Friday night, I was at the ‘80s dance party held down on Lamar for the Memphis Museum’s Young Adult outreach program. The D.J.’s were playing the music and strobing the lights when . . .” Listen to the...

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“Baby Dog, Peewee Ned, and the Devil’s Naked Butt,” written and read by Ellen Morris Prewitt

“Baby Dog, Peewee Ned, and the Devil’s Naked Butt” First appeared in print in Hurricane Review. To contribute to the Door of Hope, a charity dedicated to ending homelessness one door at a time, please follow the link here or visit DoorofHopeMemphis.org Listen to the story here: 

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Sunday Listening

“I don’t want to hear any more talk about heaven. Or Jesus,” my mom says. Still, I think it was a sign. Jesus talking like a surfer dude, except saying “skate” instead of “rock.” The real thing. So I decided to become a rollerblader for Jesus. My mom says, “Yeah, and before that, you wanted to retire the national debt.” “Rollerblader for...

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