James Wood

7 articles in category James Wood / Subscribe

Clothes and souvenirs are not the only things stored away for the trip back home. Summer tales are also packed as memories to be brought out during various parties and family get-togethers.

Most of the stories are family tales about how the baby ate his or her weight in sand or how some aunt got her finger stuck in the lobster’s claw and had to be taken to the hospital to get it freed.

An Irish American named Jimmy Teague told by far the most interesting story about an affair on a mini-vacation on the beaches of New Hampshire. His title would be, “Fifteen seconds with the nude stranger.” Seeing him tell his story gives the listener the impression that his story is total fiction. However, all who were there support his rendition.

The night before their journey home, Jim, his wife Jeanne, and two of their friends, Dick and Jana stayed in a motel in Hampton, New Hampshire. This was a small motel that had a swimming pool and a small restaurant. It was the middle of the week so they were able to get adjourning rooms. Continue Reading →

Throughout history the protection of our society and environment has never been a top priority for business. Yet, in the past few months I’ve read multiple articles describing the horrors of plastic grocery bags and how we have to eliminate their use.

I understand the pollution caused by these bags is dangerous to our environment. What I can’t understand is why large retail chains want to eliminate them instead of changing the way they are produced.

This solution would be a cost for the business even though it would help the environment. Why would a large business cost itself an expense when it could simply put that expense on their customers? The comical part of this argument is these same customers are demanding the change.

One doesn’t have to go far back into our history to see similarities between how business react to changes that help our society. Chrysler Corporation fought against the use of seat belts, the warnings about global warming have been around for quite a while now.

Indeed, the possibility of carbon dioxide accumulation changing the climate of the planet was raised back in the 19th century, although it was only during the 1960s that significant numbers of scientists began trying to discover whether it was really happening. Continue Reading →

Pperspiration slid slowly down her right breast, across a bare pink nipple, before dropping gently on to a long, slender thigh. Her companion in the sauna — a swarthy middle-aged man with dark hair covering his body and the backs of his pudgy hands — leaned across and sensuously towelled the sweat off her body, letting his hands linger on the more intimate parts.

‘Too hot for you?’ he drawled. Erica smiled with her lips but not her eyes. ‘It’s never too hot for me. You should know that by now Frankie.’ And she bent over and lightly kissed the spot where his bull-neck joined hairy shoulders. The effect was immediate and very obvious. He reached up to grab her long, blonde hair, but she playfully avoided him, stood up, and escaped through the sauna door to the outdoor pool.

The coldness of a late November evening temporarily dampened her lover’s ardour as he stumbled after her, leaping into the pool, shrieking and splashing like a young kid. He was not a good swimmer and barely managed three or four strokes before his hairy body started to sink beneath the tepid water like half-submerged seaweed. Erica allowed him to catch and caress her before she swam back to the steps that led out of that private pool and back to the overheated sauna.

The sudden change of temperature was supposed to stimulate the senses, but Frank Kendrick’s senses were already stimulated by a combination of lust and hard drugs as he lay down next to his latest mistress with his large, round head cradled in the bare softness of her lap.

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Iiwas standing at the checkout counter at Hannaford’s one Saturday morning waiting for my turn, daydreaming, when my all-too-often unconscious state was interrupted by a strange sound. The beep of the automatic checkout was overwhelmed by a muffled sound I couldn’t quite place, although it was slightly familiar.

Then, a young woman, who was next in line, said she thought the sound was coming from me. I gave her an embarrassed laugh, took my cell-phone out of my pocket, and, to no surprise, discovered the person trying to call me had hung up. After I put the phone back in my pocket we started to talk about how different cell-phones had all started to sound alike. She said she missed her old phone, which played classical music every time someone called her up. In fact, she was able to change the tune from Beethoven to Bach by simply pushing a number.

I told her that would drive me nuts because I would hate to hear classical music before I had to talk to someone who was anything but classical. I said I would be happy just to have a cell-phone that would ring like phones used to ring in the distant past. The young woman stared at me and said she never knew cell-phones could ring. I was then reminded how old I really was. Then I wondered it if might be possible to have the person making the call pick the music they wanted to play so the receiver of the call would know who the caller was from their signature tune.

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Iit’s soft, dark water helped to soothe and quiet her mind. It took her away from the noisy, squawkish world of the cat-walk and let her lie untroubled at its side, listening only to the gentle lapping of its waves. She felt at peace. Alone. Unhindered and free. Free to do nothing but watch and listen and dream. London, Paris, New York – names, only names.

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Hhe was surprised how light she was. It was some years since he’d lifted her bodily, yet she seemed no heavier than when he first carried her over the threshold nine years ago. Her figure had altered very little in that time. Carefully he placed the body on the bed, almost as if he half-expected some sign of movement. But none came. Hurriedly he left the room. He was well behind schedule.

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Hhe’s looking at me! He thinks I don’t know it, but I do!

‘I can see you, Charlie, I can see you!’

Those stupid, painted doll-like eyes staring out of that wooden head. Sneering at me. There was a time when I could ignore him. Drop him in his box at the end of the act and forget about him until the next performance. That was long ago when I first got started as a ventriloquist. Then it was ‘The amazing Eduardo’. That’s how the billing read. No mention of ‘Charlie’ … just me, Eduardo. But slowly he got in on the act.

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