Gnarly Tales

They both knew the white truck was way too heavily overloaded. Raymond knew the load wasn't highway legal, which is the big reason the two men stood next to the truck on this particular early Sunday morning. Raymond desperately needed a cash draw against the next job. He damned well hoped he could get one, because he was damned sure gonna be in big trouble if he couldn't. It was imperative to get this load of gear over to the town of Torwood so he could claim the new job was started. Taking the load over early on a Sunday morning was Sammy's idea. Sammy stood next to Raymond as they looked over the load. Good thing he could count on a loyal guy like Sammy to help out too. It was Sammy who came up with the bright idea to load the rig this way. Sammy said the could avoid the troopers by making their trip early on a Sunday morning and sticking to the back roads off the interstate. Sometimes Sammy came up with genius notions, and this was one of them. Sammy had come through

June 12, 1993. I remember the date because it was my 75th birthday. That was the day I closed the doors for the last time to the Goat Emporium, my bar/rickshaw business in Atlanta. The bar side did so-so, but the rickshaw part was both a loser and a winner. There was only one rickshaw in the whole of Atlanta, and when its owner died, that rickshaw was retired to a museum. The owner had died a few months earlier and that left me just the bar, which according to the weather, sometimes broke even, but mostly didn't. If it had not been for some astute card playing skills at just the right times, the bar might have gone under several times. The secret to winning at poker is to be half-assed good at cards to start with, and then open a free bar to the other players and stay stone cold sober yourself. It's just that damned simple! But this isn't a story about me or the bar. This is a story about a rickshaw and its owner. The owner was a confused young Japanes

First came the Wasp, who settled irritably on a leaf near the colorful crimson bloom. Jumpy, and with many a 'zzzt' of its wings it flitted first to one leaf and then the other, crawling over some, and under others even if it is hard to understand how insects manage this feat. Finding nothing of interest anywhere there, the Wasp flew away, zig-zagging in the air with the appearance of searching for trouble somewhere, as it might seem to an observer. Then, along came the Moth which alighted clumsily near the bright crimson blossom, staggering a little as it clung on. Fluttering her wings and uncurling her antennae, she searched for a mate, turning in ovoid 360-degree circles several times. Finding none, the Moth too worked her wings once again and erratically fluttered away. Next, a tiny and busy Ant climbed up the long stalk, taking many minutes to make the journey, Although it seemed purposeful in its climb, the Ant paused many times to wave its front legs and anten