Author Archives: Marshall Ramsey

Karl

When I was a janitor, some people looked at me and saw a janitor. And some people looked at me and saw a person. This story is dedicated to them. Karl tied the plastic black bag in a knot and … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | 14 Comments

Oct. 24 Daily Log

Woke up with a rotten cold.  Fought it all day yesterday and I’ve officially lost the battle. My immune system was too run down to fight it off. I woke up at 4:59 a .m. and dreamed of calling in … Continue reading →

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Reflections

Water bugs zipped across the surface of the stream’s pool, making tiny waves that traveled to the sides of the rocks. Light filtered through the trees, creating spots on the water’s surface. He could see his face. And then he … Continue reading →

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Monday’s Prayer

Whenever I feel like complaining, give me the strength to do something positive instead.

Posted in Monday Prayer | 2 Comments

Monday Free-For-All

Good morning!  Hope you have a great week.

Posted in MRBA | 47 Comments

Oct. 23 Daily Log

It was 2:10 p.m. My son looked at the clock and remembered his Scout Troop’s Court of Honor started at 2 p.m.  He had not reminded us to put it on the calendar. His mother and I had forgotten, too. And … Continue reading →

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Sunday Free-For-All

Woke up with a cold. So I went back to sleep.  Good morning to you even though it is nearly afternoon.

Posted in MRBA | 17 Comments

Oct. 22 Daily Log

At this time last year I was fully employed at The Clarion-Ledger and ready to run the Marine Corps Marathon. Now I am partly employed by The Clarion-Ledger, work 14 hours a day, have a radio show on SuperTalk Mississippi, … Continue reading →

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Saturday Free-For-All

Good morning! I was up late but I slept late. So that works for me. Magic 8-Ball is one of my favorite recent stories. Hope you’ve gotten to read it.

Posted in Writing | 20 Comments

The Magic 8-Ball

At a yard sale in a wooded neighborhood across town, a man browsed through the cornucopia of junk, toys and other value-priced flotsam. He walked over to a table that reminded him of Rudolph’s Island of Forgotten toys.  A doll. … Continue reading →

Posted in Writing | 7 Comments