I have been busy getting ready to publish my second book...here is a sample of what you will find..

Several years ago while riding around Portland on Tri-Met, I met two very interesting young men. One I met on Tuesday, the other I met on Wednesday, on Thursday I sat down and wrote...

Two Boys on The Bus Two boys traveled on the bus. One, Tuesday’s Boy, The other, Wednesday’s lad, Each carried burdens deeply hidden away. Tuesday’s Boy spent his life in a chair, with wheels that rolled him up and on the bus. Another set of wheels churned away inside his head. He spoke with his crooked fingers going in mayhem’s direction  He touched his caregiver, first on her side, then trying in vain to stroke her short blond hair. She shied from his advances with a warning, 'behave, stay away!'. Could he tell, did he know, was he aware, did he really care? Or did he crave the need to touch and be touched and held and loved? Wednesday’s Boy jumped on the bus, He greeted the driver with a handshake and hello. Hong, a Vietnamese lad of maybe 23, Sat next to me and first shook my hand then from nowhere he wrapped his arms around my neck and hugged me, “Where you from?” he asked “Chicago” is what I said. “I’m from Miami, you go to Miami?” “I’ve never been there, but would like to go.” “Go…you have fun in Miami…where you go now?” “Home” is all I said… Hong said, “Me too” his head hung low, followed by his sudden but quiet reply.  He went from friendly, outgoing, full of life… to sullen. It seemed as if Hong had retreated to a deeper, darker place…a place only he could go to...Hong got off the bus somewhere on Milwaukie "Avenue… just past QFC. As he prepared to leave I said “Good-bye Hong,” he nodded and pleadingly stared right through me. Two boys traveled on the bus. One was Tuesday’s Boy, The other, Wednesday’s lad, Each carried burdens deeply hidden away.