“Have you found any candles,” asked Brown smiling, “among your oddities?” Flambeau raised a grave face, and fixed his dark eyes on his friend. “That is curious, too,” he said. “Twenty-five candles, and not a trace of a candlestick.” In the rapidly darkening room and rapidly ...
I pulled up to work one day on my 650 Triumph motorcycle, and this young black man in a long brown robe was standing on the porch. When I saw him, I knew immediately he came for me. I helped him get an apartment, we became fast friends, and we started Bible studies together. Even...
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Not long after my dad passed away in 2011, the government announced plans for an 8 lane highway that would cut through Bukit Brown, and graves in the way would have to be exhumed. The news of the highway triggered a memory. The last time I visited my grandpa’s tomb was more than ...
There was the same kind of charm about her too slender form, her faintly colored face and light-brown hair, that modern poets find in mediaeval statuettes; and a sweet expression, a look of Christian resignation in the dark gray eyes. She was pretty by force of contrast; if she had ...
“Let’s begin at the wrong end. Let’s begin with what everybody knows, which isn’t true.” “If not wholly untrue, it is at least very inadequate,” continued Brown; “for in point of fact, all that the public knows amounts precisely to this: The public knows that Arthur St. ...
He tried the SR-25 sniper rifle and the SEALs' pistol of choice, the Sig Sauer P226. One of the instructors was Petty Officer 1st Class John Brown, whose father also served as a Green Beret in Vietnam. Brown pulled Tiger aside. The sun was shining, a nice day, and the two...
Until Doc Brown invents a time machine to move us about within time, we can only go forward at the pace we are going now. Within that passing of time there are seasons for everything. The poem here is particularly appropriate for the culture of the original audience (farmers and ...
My sense of English identity has been forged in part through the furnace of racism. Like any brown kid growing up in seventies/eighties Britain, racism – whether on the playground or the adult world – was something we had to deal with. My parents didn’t give me much direction on how...
It seemed that he had happened to be talking to Graham Brown of the London office, a very nice fellow, and Craham had a friend who had just entered his boy at the school, and while he was in that part of the world he thought he might just as well phone them. I remember my eyes...