By Michael Masterson “If you want to be a writer, you have to write.” I was sixteen years old when my father said those words to me. They were both kind and cruel. And I never forgot them. The first time I can remember wanting to be a writer was …Read More »
An elderly man in Louisiana owned a large farm for several years.
He had a large pond in the back. It was properly shaped for swimming, so he fixed it up nice with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees.
One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, to look it over, as he hadn't been there for a while.
Before he went, he grabbed a five-gallon bucket to bring back some fruit.