People of the world and news from Dell Sweet

Posted 06-09-13

Well, Earth’s Survivors Three is available now. I gave it away over the weekend. Usually that is about 150 books or so for me, but this came to several hundred. I hope those of you who downloaded it enjoyed it.

I am currently working on the second space novel (Just editing for Geo) Tomorrow I will start upload the first Earth’s Survivors Outrunner book. I will send that to Jay and Geo next week or the week after. For a guy who dropped out of school and lived on the streets, could not read or write because of that and had to be taught by someone, it amazes me that I spend all of my time either reading or writing now. If I don’t have a book I have either written or intend to write running around my head at any given time, something is wrong.

It’s raining in New York. Heavy, cold rain. Spring is official, but has been pretty hard to find so far this season. I thought I would share part of my past week with you…

I use Windows Seven for my operating system. Not because I like Windows Seven, but because Linux is not universally accepted yet. So I use Linux as much as I can and then Windows Seven when I have to.

I purchased a new machine a month or so ago and it came with Windows Eight. Oh, I could write a whole blog about how I hate Windows Eight. And I do. It compromises you and your information on every level, because it insists on having it. It insists on knowing everything there is to know about you. Do you have five freckles on the inside of your left thigh? That would be about the only thing it doesn’t ask or know about it, but I would not count on the fact that it doesn’t know, it just might. Anyway, for me, too nosy. I buy the software and so I guess that means I am supporting the invasion of my privacy. But I would like it to be more like a car. A Toyota will drive me anywhere I want to go, but, so will a Ford, or a Chevy, or a Dodge, or, well, you get the idea. So why is it we only have Windows? Where the hell is the support for Linux? Or something else? Okay, That’s all I have on that.

So, I deep-sixed the machine I bought because, as it turns out, you can not easily delete win 8, at least on this machine. It would not allow me to install my Win 7. I struggled with it for a week. I decided in that space of time that there was not redeeming quality there and then one day I went online, ordered the parts from Amazon to fix my old machine. Kicked myself for not doing that first, and once they came I spent a few hours fixing the old machine. Once I was done I unplugged the new machine, stuck it back in the box and slid it under my desk. It made a great foot rest until my mother’s machine locked up the other day.

Moms machine is my old machine. I wrote several short stories and my first novel on that machine, a lawn sale item I had all of 40.00 dollars into. “Well, how would you like a Windows Eight machine, Mom,” I asked? For her it’s great. She is a social animal, mom is. I think something like 600 face book friends. She has all her on-line shopping places, her Kindle account. Huh, I said to her, people actually use computers to socialize? Mom just laughed at me. She figured out Win 8 immediately and has no problem with it. Humph…

I use Windows Seven and it makes me money, or helps me to make a living. It’s a tool I use to run the software that makes my living, and allows me to access the publishing services I need to be able to make my living. It also allows me to buy and sell on-line if I so choose, use software to listen to music, manipulate my artwork and create Artwork too. Record Music of my own. Read other E-Books (Yes, I read other authors, not just the ones here at independAntwriters). In short I spend a great deal of time in the Windows Seven environment and all I ever do is complain about it, uh, sort of like I am right now. But once I got a load of Win 8 I decided I would embrace Win 7. No more complaints from me.

So, last week I went to Google for a translation for a phrase spoken by one of the characters in Earth’s Survivors Three. Candace Loi is Japanese and African American. Her Grandmother spoke Japanese. I remembered the pronunciation for Grand Daughter in Japanese, but did not want to hack the spelling. And, growing up and hearing it, having an idea in my head what it meant, and then what it really means are different things sometimes. I went with Magomusume instead of Mago. Magomusume is more formal, and not really used often. But, I didn’t want to confuse things, it’s not like the character can launch into a long explanation about why it is not usually used in the Gender specific form.

So, I found it, but, when I had searched, it had also shown me a few images of people that indirectly related to my search. Japanese life. Yes, for once, not porn that always seems to pop up, but actual people… With their clothes on. I was awed, and I did something I rarely do, I spent about four hours more on Google looking for more pictures of people from all walks of life. So when you read Earth’s Survivors Three and you reach the point where Candace explains Magomusume you will know that as soon as I wrote that I then spent four or so hours Googleing stuff. I went ahead and clicked the ‘Images’ link on Google. Like I said, usually I am Leery of it, but this time I carefully restricted my keywords and was rewarded.

Poor, Gypsies, Vietnamese, Japanese, Native American, African and African American. One simply led to the next. And, why look if you don’t intend to keep? The reason I thought of that is because I know a man who, whenever I visit, has his desktop machine (A MAC, Ironically) set to show different life scenes. And this is on his office machine, so, while I’m waiting, I watch the picture show. I have been there enough times to know the pictures, and so I anticipate certain ones.

I sit in the padded leather chair, in his office, in America, where even the very poor do not starve to death in the streets, or get shot or terrorized by soldiers, or shot, killed and dumped in a ditch somewhere. At least not as the normal course of a day. Violence does happen here too. Having both grown up poor, and spent time actually living on the streets as a teen, I understand that what we see on the surface is only a poor reflection of what is under that surface. But I sit in his padded leather chair and I watch scenes from all over the world. People, Artwork, Animals, Architecture and more. It’s pleasant to watch. Soothing. I suppose it is for him too.

But the images I discovered that day were people who knew nothing at all about me. My life. My computer. The life I lead is so far from their life that it might just be incomprehensible to them. In any case, for most of them, they will never live this type of life. And, they don’t look all that unhappy about the possibility of never living this life to me.

Yes, in some instances I’m sure they are. When their basic rights are violated, when they are oppressed, when they are hungry. Not our version of hungry, I mean when they have not eaten. Maybe for days. So, their life is not all roses, but they don’t miss what they have never thought about, seen, or experienced. And I looked at the pictures and I thought this is what I need to look at every day. This is what can keep me connected to the real world. That is important to me. Being grounded. Staying grounded.

So I spent about four hours and downloaded every picture that I came across that I liked. I put them in a folder and I have added to that folder a few times now when I have thought of other people I would like to see. Then I set my desktop to that folder and voila. I Guess I am bringing it up because it affected me in some unexpected ways.

First, I have dual monitors, so as I work I can see the pictures change, for the most part. The only time I can’t is when I have something else up on the second monitor. But, I found that I tend to leave that monitor blank most of the time now. And that, throughout my day, I am watching the faces pop up. A mother in Africa with her baby. A band of Gypsies Exiled by Hitler before or during the war. He hated them as much as he did the Jewish people. A proud but poor Father in Mexico posing outside of a house most of us would not want to step inside of let alone call home, with his family. All smiling. Looks like they have a lot of love if not money.

A young Native American mother sometime back in the 1700’s staring wide eyed at the camera, her child held in her arms. She looks so young and scared. A little Boy smiling up at the camera, tribal scars on both sides of his face. He looks so happy. His smile is genuine. A mother nursing. Rebels posing with Machine Guns on a road in a jungle somewhere. A young Vietnamese woman making her way through the ruined streets of some Vietnamese city. A Chinese woman with her child on her back, wrapped and looking at the world go by as mom makes her way to where ever she is going. And more…

A family on the road. A father carrying his children. Images of war, images of peace. Images I have no context for, only the people looking into the lens of the camera, or away: Caught unawares. I realized it really was keeping the world in my mind. Why is that father carrying his children? What does that mother feed her children? Do they know about the western world? What do they think about it? I like it. It keeps the world on my mind. The part of the world that is important.

I don’t mean our jobs, bills, house payments aren’t important, I am only saying that people are more important. Seeing these people from all over the world. Some surely still living, some long gone away, keeps me grounded. If only because of what I just said. Know some a re gone. Some still here. It reminds me that there were times with my family, friends, I wish I could have back, had cherished more. Some of those people are gone now. If I remember them as I look at the pictures it’s like they never left. And, there are the questions I have for those I see in the pictures too. It keeps the important things in the world in perspective for me.

It has been an interesting week, and I am glad I made the change. It even makes me grateful, yes, grateful, to Microsoft for this desktop where I can watch those changing pictures. Or whoever came up with the idea. Does that mean I can’t complain about Windows anymore?

Take a look at my books on Amazon: Dell Sweet

Connected Hurricane


Posted by Jay 12/04/2016

Happy Sunday! This has been a pretty good week, writing productivity has been great and there has been a lot of back and forth between a few of us on the writing. That sort of bouncing ideas off each other always results in better books.

Hurricane is the third offering in the Connected series. Hurricane is set in the state of Alabama and follows several characters there as a hurricane heads for the city. It will also feature Rebecca Monet as she continues to fight her way up the TV News Anchor ladder to get where she wants to be. It is a graphically violent novel like Sanger Road and Dello Green and will probably have a warning attached to it.

I write these stories pretty easily. Having spent part of my life on the streets it’s not a far reach for me to see the seedier side of life and the people that populate that world.

This is an excerpt from Hurricane which will probably have to be re-titled because of the Movie Hurricane and writings about Rubin Hurricane Carter, so consider Hurricane a working title. I hope you enjoy the preview…


Hurricane is copyright 2010 – 2016 Wendell Sweet and independAntwriters Publishing.

All rights are reserved by the publishers.

This book excerpt is not for distribution by any means electronic or standard. It may be read and viewed here by anyone, but it may not be copied or transferred to any other platform/delivery system or website without the express permission of the publisher and Copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. And resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. All events and circumstances are products of the authors imagination.

You may share this material with others by pointing them to this blog.


This material is not suitable for those under the age of 18. It depicts Graphic Violence, drug use, bad language and more.



“I’m sorry,” Amy said, “Mike is such a asshole.”

Deidre said nothing. She had called and said she was having dinner at Amy’s house and that she would ride home from school with Amy’s mother, and then catch a ride back from Eight Mile later on. It was all a lie of course. Amy had called to tell her mother she would be at Deidre’s house. Someday it was all going to catch up to them, Deidre thought. But for now it hadn’t.

“Aim, earlier, before all the crap with Mike and Jimmy, we were talking,” Deidre said.

“Yeah,” Amy said. ” that is probably why he did it. Mike doesn’t like you and I to be together… To talk.” She said. They were both sitting on the running boards of Jimmy’s truck sipping beers. Dinner had been a bag of nachos. Split. And the beer, which Amy claimed had both calories and sugar, and so accounted for most of their dinner requirements.

“Between the two, we’re good,” Amy said half seriously.

“You said you were thinking of me,” Deidre said.

It seemed as though Amy was not going to answer her. “Uh huh… I know,” she said at last looking at her as she spoke.

“Hey!” Mike said, stepping around the corner of the truck. “I gotta piss, so, what are you gonna do just sit there and watch?” He tugged at his zipper, leering as he did, and Amy and Deidre both got up and walked away.

“Hey! What are you, a couple a fuckin’ lesbos? You only hang out with each other… People are gonna think things.”

Deidre’s face turned red. She turned back around and looked at him. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself with that little dick of yours,” She said quietly.

“What did you say,:” Mike asked. He took a step towards her, still holding his dick in his hand.

“I think you heard me or are your ears that small too,” she asked?

“You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, Bitch, but some day…”Mike said. Barely catching and hanging onto his temper.

“Dee, please,” Amy said. “Let it go.”

Deidre turned and walked away with Amy. Mike said nothing more.

Mike went back to pissing. His face red. His temples pulsing. Jimmy stepped up behind him. Mike finished, zipped himself up and turned around.

“Some day what?” Jimmy asked. His words were a little thick. They had been drinking most of the afternoon.

“What,” Mike asked?

Jimmy just stared at him. Jimmy was slow to anger, but Mike and he had known each other all of their lives and Jimmy was no one to fuck with once he did actually get angry. Especially when he was drinking.

“Okay,” Mike said. “She pissed me off… Did you hear what she said? I just got pissed is all.”

“I heard what both of you said. You started it with her. What’s the deal with the lesbian remark and coming over here to piss like that? Just expecting them to go? Did you whip it right out in front of them,” Jimmy asked?

“No… Of course not, Jimmy,” Mike said. “Look, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I just don’t like being talked to like that by any body let alone a girl. I’m not used to it. No man is,” Mike finished.

Jimmy stood for a moment and then the tension just ran out of him. “Fuck… She’s got a smart mouth… I know that. I’ll talk to her.. But you watch your mouth too… We’re friends.. I wouldn’t ever talk to Amy that way.. See?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I see,” Mike agreed. Jimmy clapped one hand on his back and they walked away together back to the front of the Nissan.


Look for Hurricane next year. Get the current books below.

Dello Green:

Sanger Road:

Or on Smashwords:

You can also find Connected on NOOK: Sanger Road Dello Green or at I-Tunes: Sanger Road Dello Green

Check out the Earth’s Survivors Collected Series below: The SE series combines the books, two at a time, so that you can get them cheaper than buying both books separately.

Digital Collection #1




SE #1 Paper Back Links

Digital Collection #2




SE #2 Paper Back Links



Posted 11-23-16

Wednesday Morning: Of personal Note;

I am working on finishing up my house. I really will be doing floors on Monday, finally. I did finish all of the paint work, built another custom cabinet to go over the refrigerator, installed it, spent a small amount of time with my brother as he is leaving New York for Alabama permanently, installed all of the speaker systems, alarms: Smoke and Carbon Monoxide, tweeters, fresh air vents, light grills, L/R Ceiling fan and light. All of the little stuff that really adds up.

I have a bad habit of saying to myself, “Oh yeah, I have to put in that duct work for the over range Microwave oven.” And I say it like it’s nothing, a ten minute job, when I know I have to snake duct work through the ceiling, run electric for the oven, and it will eat several hours if I don’t run into a problem, and I will run into trouble because it’s an old house and everything I have done has run into problems.

I did this sort of work for many years. I worked for the largest property management companies in Rochester New York. All they did was buy houses and flip them. I ran crews to get the work done. In reality that meant unskilled labor to help me do all of the work. The first few times it was daunting, but after awhile I learned how to get men and women who were not skilled in any sort of construction to learn and do the work. So I know what work is, how involved it will be, how much time it will eat up, yet I still lie to myself. “No. No. Ten minuets!

The truth is it is easier to rip a house down and build a new one than rebuild/rehab an old one. You have to like the house a great deal, or, as in my case, be stuck with the circumstances. My circumstances are, I foolishly stuck thousands into the house, as it came from a relative and my Mother liked it and wanted to live here, before I stopped and said, well, never mind what I said, it contained a few expletives though. So I was in it. I stopped, looked at the balance of the work and then gutted the whole thing down to the studs. It honestly was cheaper to do that then continue to try to fix the problems the house had as I went along, and my weekly spending reflected that.

Now she will have a nice house to spend the balance of her years in, that should be pretty much trouble free…


I have the Outrunners book finished. I Have published the paperback version of it, but I am unsure what I will do digitally. The test showed that people were confused by the two series. Not that they were both from the Earth’s Survivors series, but because the characters interact. They felt that since the characters from both series interacted, and some of the writing overlapped, the books were relating the same things. That is frustrating. I went through that with Earth’s Survivors too. The diaries reflect what the characters feel about what is going on. It rarely turns out to be the same story that is narrated, because they are seeing it through their own eyes. Some reviewers felt it amounted to telling the same story twice. Apparently they did not catch the differences. I toughed that out, more readers read the books, and they got it. I assume it will be the same with the Outrunners books. So, most likely it will publish this week as The Zombie Killers. Maybe an ES logo on the book and that’s it.

Other Writing:

I am a fussy writer, picky, a pain to work for? Maybe. Probably all of that. It took a while to get an editor I would/could work with and I am completely happy. I hope the relationship lasts until I write my last word. And I want my last word to be “ARRRGGggggggg…” Like in the Monty Python movie.

Other Non Fiction and Fiction work:

I have plenty of non fiction work to publish. Getting to it is the problem. And non fiction stuff just doesn’t sell well, so it is truly a labor of love. You have to want to do it. As for fiction, you can write anything with a Vampire, Werewolf or Zombie in it and it will get read fairly quickly, but write a non fiction piece and it will take time to find an audience. It is the way it is.

I have a few projects that are important to me. The first project is MAX. MAX is a first hand account about prison, and what that life is really like. I have journals, ten years worth, and it would probably be verbatim. Using the journals as they were written. It’s rough stuff in places though. It would have to be written with warnings.

The second project is Broken. I have written three books worth of material for Broken. It deals with life on the streets and moves through the rest of my life. It is also rough stuff and would have to have warnings.

The third project is Yeshua. I spent a great deal of time writing Yeshua, which deals with Jesus the Christ’s life as told through the eyes of one of his disciples. It is fictionalized. But it was taken directly from years of study, reference books, verbatim transcriptions of scrolls and other written materials. I like it. I think it’s honest, but I also think that anytime you mess with religion you take grave chances.

The fourth project is fiction. I need to get started on the Rapid City books – Cowboys and Zombies, instead of just the short stories. They are started but I need to jump into it.

Finishing this house is key to getting back to a normal life instead of a life of Carpentry / Plumbing / Electrical / Drywall / Carpeting / Laminate flooring / Painting – with writing on the side. So I am looking at this coming week as my last week doing that stuff full time. That will shift to part time after the floors are in and everything is moved, and writing will shift back to full time.

That’s this week. I spoke a little about Hurricane, which I have been writing on the side. Hurricane is the third book in the Connected series of books dealing with crime and a few central figures.

Hurricane is set in Alabama. I lived there for ten years and the seed for the novel came from that. The story centers around two young girls and their lives, a convict in a prison up north, and a Hurricane that is due to hit the Gulf Coast. I think it is a good, fast paced story. I will leave you with a preview of Hurricane, which should be available sometime next year.



Copyright 2016 Wendell Sweet. All rights reserved.


This is a free preview of an unreleased novel. It is posted here for your enjoyment. If you wish to share this with someone please direct them to this blog. You may not copy or distribute this text in any format, electronic or print, without the copyright owners permission. Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques, so long as the copyright owner is notified.




It’s bad luck to skip school on a Monday,” Amy Knowles said to her best friend Deidre Blevins.

I know,” Deidre said, “But I hate it. I just can’t be there. I can’t deal with those Goddamn Nuns today. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Aim… I didn’t even tell Jimmy.”

I know that.. Obviously I want to go… I mean,” Amy fell silent.

What,” Deidre asked?

We’re friends,” Amy said. “It’s been me and you way before Jimmy or Mike came along… It’s just that, sometimes we get too far away from that.” Her face colored.

Deidre nodded. “We do… So, where do you and me go today…. With no car… No way to get nowhere. I hate being on foot…. It’s just about all I keep Jimmy around for. That and the pot,” Deidre said.

Really,” Amy asked?

She thought about it. “I could think of something better… For right now he’s okay. I like him well enough.”

Amy wondered what the something better might be. Deidre had colored a little bit when she said it. She didn’t ask though. It was good enough just being together. She didn’t want to complicate it with feelings.

I smell rubber burning,” Deidre said and smiled. “A penny for your thoughts. That’s what my dad always says to me,” She said.

They’re worth more than a penny,” Amy said as they reached the parking lot. She slipped her hand through Deidre’s arm. “Lead on,” She said.

Deidre was surprised by the arm, but pleasantly surprised. She liked the feel of it, she decided. She looked up at the sky then back down at the parking lot. “We could hitch out to your place or we could walk around downtown.”

We could get picked up by some Psycho too,” Amy said.

Never have,” Deidre countered.

Okay, but if some Psycho picks us up and kills us I am going to be so pissed at you,” Amy said. She tried a little smile on her face. Deidre answered it with one of her own.

Never happen,” Deidre said as they started across the parking lot.

I’d probably follow you anywhere,” Amy said softly. So softly that Deidre was not sure she had even heard her.

Yeah. I wish that were true,” Deidre said every bit as softly.

Amy looked up at her. She had heard the words, but she was looking away. She was about to speak when Jimmy’s voice interrupted her. She looked up and there he was. His blonde hair hanging in his eyes, head half out of the window of his truck. When no one answered he spoke again.

I said, I thought you was staying at school today?” He said again looking a Deidre.

Well, you said you might be here, so Amy and I thought we would try,” Deidre said quickly and smiled.

Amy nodded and smiled.

The car behind Jimmy’s truck blew its horn and Jimmy twisted around and glared back at the driver. He popped up his middle finger and showed it to the driver and then looked back at Deidre. “So, where we gonna go?. I didn’t make no plans and I ain’t got no money,” Jimmy said.

Deidre had about forty dollars on her, two tens in her pocket and the rest in her sneaker. She pulled out the two tens. “This will get us a little way, right,” She asked?

Jimmy took the two tens and slipped them in his pocket. “We can go out to Mike’s,” he looked at Amy. “He’s working on the Nissan today… I can help him… We can hang out… We have enough for beer now and gas to get there too.” Jimmy said.

The car behind him tapped its horn once more. Jimmy levered open the door jumped out and started to turn back to the car but Deidre caught his arm.

Baby, you’ll get us in trouble. We’ll get caught,” she said as she pulled him away.

The guy in the car rolled his window up quickly. Jimmy smiled at him, flipped him off again and then turned back to Deidre and Amy. “Luck for that little fuck,” he said. “Come on.” He held the driver’s door open as first Amy and then Deidre crawled across to the passenger’s side and then turned and looked back at the car. The young guy behind the wheel refused to look back. Jimmy flipped him off again and then climbed back into his truck.


What does it look like,” Bob Travers asked? He was at his own desk but he called up a view of the latest National Weather Service radar on his monitor.

Rebecca Monet leaned closer to the monitor, her breasts brushing against his shoulder as she did. “It could be the big one. It’s building fast and they are already predicting a path that will bring it right to us,” She told him. “I want to be the one that gets it if it does. I mean, I know I’ll have it at first but if it goes big I want to keep it instead of it going to Bethany,” she said in a low voice, nearly a whisper.

Bethany Jacobs was the anchor woman for Channel Eight News. She sat next to Bob during the newscasts. He had his pick of the big stories and left the rest to Bethany.

Becca, you know I can’t do that,” Bob said in an equally low voice.

Bullshit,” she said sweetly and smiled. “I know what your contract says. You schedule. You appoint. It’s your call.” Her breasts pressed more firmly against his shoulder. “Come on, Bob. I’m good. I can do it. You know I can,” Rebecca pleaded. Her hand came up and rested lightly on his upper arm. Her perfume was subtle but intoxicating.

Bethany will go ballistic,” Bob whispered.

So what,” Rebecca said.

We have a …. A sort of,” Bob started.

I know. It’s not like it’s a secret.” Her hand stroked his bicep. “I would do anything you want, Bob,” she said. The weight of her breasts against his shoulder suddenly seemed to increase ten fold. “I mean anything,” she said leaning closer and whispering in his ear. Her lips brushed his ear.

Are we talking about the same thing,” Bob asked, his voice low. His eyes scanned the room looking to make sure no one was watching or eavesdropping.

I’ve got a few minutes… I’m sure your dressing room is empty. Let me show you what I’m talking about. I think we’re on the same page,” Rebecca whispered. And this time her lips not only brushed against his ear they seemed planted there.

I… I can’t right now,” Bob said.

Can’t stand up,” she asked with a musical little laugh.

Something like that,” Bob agreed.

I’ll meet you there… I’ll let myself in,” She asked?

Bob nodded. The weight of her breasts were instantly gone, but the sound of her voice and the scent of her perfume were in his head. ‘Boy was Bethany going to be pissed off,’ he thought. But Tad Edwards, the station manager, had already dropped hints to him about seeing Rebecca work more, and a few other hints about how he thought Bethany was not aging well, meaning to Tad she was past her prime at twenty seven and he thought it was time for a fresh face. A younger face. Rebecca was all of twenty, and she was… He made himself stop thinking about her. He had to, or else, he told himself, he’d never be able to get up.

‘Man oh Man was Bethany ever going to be pissed off,’ he told himself again.


Paul lay in Jane’s bed. He had left early this morning on the pretext of having to go over the paper work for the year end audit, and that was partly true, but the real truth was that they had been getting less and less time together and he had simply needed to be with her.

We have got to go,” Jane said from beside him.

I know,” Paul told her. Her body was pressed to his own, one of his arms holding her to him. He didn’t let go. She felt so good. She reached over and bit his chest softly.

Ow,” Paul said… “Okay… Oh all right… Maybe tonight? I could say I’m working late.”

I can’t… You know I’ve got classes… Tomorrow?” She countered.

He smiled “That will work.” His hand slipped down and rubbed across her buttocks, squeezing gently and then, reluctantly, he let her go.

She held him a second longer and then kissed him before she rolled away. “I love you,” she said.

I love you to,” he said automatically. “I’ll go first?” He headed for the shower and a few minuets later he was merging into traffic on I 65 and heading towards the Airport Road exit.

He and Janey had been an item for about a year. Paul Blevins didn’t really think about it as cheating on his wife Peggy any longer. He was pretty sure she was pursuing her own interests anyway. It just was.

He didn’t think too hard about the love aspect of the relationship either. Sure, he told her he loved her, and he did. She had a perfect body, and he loved it. And her attitude was great, he loved that too. And, she was completely devoted to him, how could he not love that? But the other kind of love? The kind that made you cry? Made your heart ache? No. He had loved Peggy like that at one time. He loved his daughter Deidre like that. She could probably get anything at all out of him. But she didn’t abuse it. She was a pretty good kid most of the time. Not out running around getting involved in all of the bad stuff that kids her age got involved in. He had no real concerns or worries about her. All of his real love. The kind that could hurt him anyway was reserved for her. She had never abused it and Paul didn’t think she ever would, or could for that matter.

He and Peggy had fallen apart a few years before and there seemed to be no way to fix it. Janey was pushing lately for them to be together. Her little boy, Lincoln, who was just two years old, already thought of Paul as his father. And Paul supposed that eventually he and Janey would probably be together.

Deidre had about six months of school left and then she would be off to college. Local if he had his way, New York if Peggy’s father had his way. And there was not too much that Peggy’s father did not get his way on. Money did talk and he had a lot of it.

Either way there was no reason to stay after Deidre was gone. There would be nothing there. It would feel too weird sleeping in the same bed, keeping up the charade. For what? For who? They really only kept up the pretense now for Deidre’s sake. If she was gone, what would be the point?

There would be no point, he told himself. Janey would most likely get her way… Sooner rather than later.

The radio played low as he drove and he listened as he watched traffic. Nothing much new. A tropical depression building off the coast of Africa. A big One. One that bore watching the weatherman said. Maybe it would be something, Paul thought, but he doubted it. They almost always slipped off and shot up the coast, or veered off and hit Louisiana or Texas. Most likely this one would too.

He came to a near dead stop in a long line of cars making their way onto Airport Road. Janey would be along in another thirty minutes or so. With Peggy’s fathers money it wasn’t a good idea to make themselves an easy target. On the surface Peggy might not seem to care, but Paul suspected she had to be thinking about the future too. Six months from now was the future. Or the end of their future. Six months from now, divorce most likely, and he didn’t mean to make it easy for her. So they were careful. Never leaving at the same times. Not being seen together.

The only reason he had stuck it out these last few years was Deidre. He wanted no custody dispute that she would be dragged into. No loss of seeing her. Peggy and her father’s money could make him look bad. Take her away. That would kill him. And, he knew it. She knew how much it would hurt him, which is exactly why she would do it. For Spite. For payback. Women were like that. Women whose fathers had deep pockets were even more like that, he thought. He had no doubt that had he pulled the plug a few years ago she would have made sure he never saw Deidre again until she was old enough to make her own decisions. But then Peggy may have poisoned her mind completely.

He could do without Peggy, Jane too, but not Deidre. So here he was, day after day. Six months to go and it would all be over. He inched forward through the traffic trying to clear his mind as he went.

The audit. Now there was a sobering thought. Janey really was helping with the audit. He had bought her in. It was a mess. There were real problems there. Problems that would take Janey to fix if he could convince her to do it for him. She was helping. Going through the mounds of paperwork. She was smart, she would see it. He would let it be her own idea. He hoped it would be her own idea. He pushed the thoughts away.

The line of cars suddenly poured onto Airport Road and he sped up just making it out and merging into the middle lane at the expense of a blaring horn and a pissed off driver of a beverage delivery truck who had not wanted to let him in. He made the left lane finally, signaled at the light and cut across the feeder road and then into the restaurant parking lot.

A few cars, and, for the second time in as many weeks a moving van was parked in the lot. Companies did that all of the time, but he could not remember if there was a moving company nearby with that name. Peggy was what he was thinking of. Peggy and her fathers deep pockets. Her fathers money that could hire a private detective to follow him. To poke around. Six months, he reminded himself as he parked, got out and walked to the restaurant. She could do as she pleased with Daddies money after that.

He whistled as he walked to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside the restaurant.


Dave Plasko shot the ball under his knee and across to Steve Minor. They had tried letting Darren Reed, who was part of their little group, play, but he was too slow mentally to keep up. It confused him and then it panicked him, and once he was panicked he might do anything. Best to let him watch from the sidelines as he was now.

Steve caught the ball, faked left then nearly walked himself to the right, put the ball up, and it barely kissed the rim as it went through.

That’s it. You dudes are done,” Dave said.

Another one?” Light said. “One more?”

Got to work, Light,” Dave said. “Outside clearance. Can’t fuck that up. We’ll play when I’m back this afternoon.”

Now, how is it you three white boys got that all sewn up,” Light asked?

Hmm… We’re white? … It’s Alabama? How the fuck should I know. This is your fucked up state not mine, Light. You know we ain’t on that shit.” Dave told him.

Light bounced the ball across the small basketball court that was just off the main prison yard, and into the Recreation box on the other side.

Yeah. If you could only play that fuckin’ good all of the time…” Dave joked.

I do, New York. You motherfuckers just cheat too Goddamn much,” Light laughed.

The yard gate opened and Jack Johnson, an overweight correction officer stepped in and looked around the yard. “What the fuck, Plasko,” he asked when his eyes fell on him. “You and your girlfriends ready to go to work or not? I ain’t got all goddamned day you know.”

Later,” Plasko told Light. They touched fists. “On our way, Mister Johnson,” he called out. He looked to Darren and Steve and the three of them headed across the rec yard to the gate.


Peggy Blevins walked up to the young woman who was looking over the computers on display. She was the top seller at Computer Terminal, or at least she had been every month for the last eight months in a row.

Can I help,” She asked the young woman.

The girl smiled. Petite. Asian. Probably a student, Peggy thought. On a budget. Needing far less than what she would want.. Her nearly black hair was set off by her narrow, dark framed glasses which served to make her appear much more intelligent than she probably was. Maybe, Peggy conceded. She sized her up. The seller in her already calculating.

I need something for school… A laptop… I’m on a budget though,” The young woman told her.

She was older than she looked, Peggy decided, early twenties. And she was actually quite beautiful when she smiled. Peggy had thought Asian but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe Native American… Maybe mixed race… Maybe African too. Beautiful. Her observations were straight forward. She observed people. It made her a great sales associate.

What do you want to do with it,” Peggy asked? “I mean, what will you need to do with it? I can get you a really good deal on last years model… Probably throw in some software upgrades too,” Peggy told her.

The woman looked at her watch. “Sorry,” she said. “I have to be at work soon. I’m taking accounting and that is what I would be using it for,” she told her.

Spreadsheets… Databases… Like that,” Peggy asked?

Exactly,” the woman agreed.

Like Lotus Suite,” Peggy asked?

Never tried it… Is it like Office or Access,” The woman asked?

Better. Databases. Spreadsheets. Word processing… All work together… In one environment. It’s nice. I have a lap top, last years model, but it’s also a return. It has Lotus on it already, and the full version too. I can give it to you for nearly fifty percent off,” Peggy said.

Really? How can you do that,” The woman asked.

We write them off,” Peggy said in a near whisper. They could care less what we get after that point as long as it moves… Does it sound good….?” She phrased it so the young woman would give her her name and she held out her hand.

Jane,” the young woman said. “Jane green.” Her eyes fixed on Peggy’s and held them.

Peggy really looked at her. She knew the name and the young woman had to know who she was. “I’m Peggy,” she said stupidly. “Peggy Blevins.”

I know,” Jane said.

Do you really want the laptop,” Peggy asked? “I really can get you a good deal on it.”

I really do,” Jane said.

How did you find me… He didn’t…” She started.

No… Of course not,” Jane said. “He would be so pissed to know I am here… I… I just wanted to talk to you,” She said.

I can take a break,” Peggy said.

Let’s take care of the computer then I’ll buy you coffee,” Jane asked.?

Sure,” Peggy said. “You didn’t seem surprised that I knew your name.” She said.

There isn’t much place to hide to watch my place. The guy gave himself away a few times. Once I realized he was watching my place I knew what it had to be… I don’t want trouble… Or… Or to argue… I just wanted to talk to you,” Jane Green said.

Peggy nodded and tried to get a smile back on her face. “Cone on, Jane. Let’s get this taken care of.”

They both walked away toward the back of the store.


Thanks for checking out the free preview. Have a great Thanksgiving!

Connected: A crime series from W. W. Watson


You can find Connected on Amazon, NOOK, I-Books, KOBO or check it out directly from the publisher, Smashwords at the link below…

Low cost Funeral Services



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Mexico Bound

Sunday night.

I buried the Mexican just after sundown. I can’t say much about the sort of man he was in life, but I can say he was a strong man in death.
The Moon has led my way and I’m on my way across the desert into Mexico of all places. What did they say, hide in plain sight? There I’m going to be. Probably already passed the border, and once I’m across the border I’ll find a small town… More

Earth’s Survivors Preview




Published by Wendell Sweet

Earth’s Survivors: Rising From The Ashes is © Copyright 2014 Wendell Sweet, all rights reserved.

Additional Copyrights © 2010, 2012, 2013-2015 by Wendell Sweet All rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


March 16th

Conner and Katie

Conner sat quietly on a small pile of brick outside of the factory entrance and watched the sun come up. Forty-three hours from sunrise to sunrise. It made no sense at all, at least not to him.

The air was warm, not warming, but warm, and a heavy haze hung on the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise. Northwest still, but it didn’t seem as far to the west as it had been just a few days before.

We need something to track that, he thought. And then, maybe not. After all, what good would it do to know if it was a little more to the East or the West or whatever?

His thoughts were broken by a soft step beside him. He turned as Katie came up beside him carrying two mugs of hot coffee. She handed him one of the mugs and then settled beside him.

Thank you,” Conner said. She smiled back and then blew lightly at the hot coffee in her mug. Steam lifted off the rim of the cup as she did.

How long?” She asked finally, and then took a small sip.

Forty-three… Give or take a few minutes.” He kissed her lightly on one cheek.

What was that for?” She asked with a smile.

Because I wanted to,” Conner told her. He blew on his own coffee and then took a small sip.

You okay?” she asked in a more serious tone. Her eyes met his.

Yeah. It… I don’t think it’s sunk in yet.”

She nodded.

It’s like,” he continued, “when my parents were killed. I knew it. I accepted it as well as I could, but there was really no time to process it… or maybe I refused to process it. Anyway, it was years later before I ever really dealt with it. That’s what this reminds me of. Someday, once this all settles down, we’ll process it, until then I think we’re just on cruise control.”

What was it?” She asked softly.

Car accident. It was fast… for them anyway.” He seemed sad thinking about it.

My mother died a few years ago. My dad right after her. They were older when they had me. Hard life… Bad genes. Heart attacks for both of them,” she finished quietly.

I’m sorry,” Conner said. “It must have been hard.”

Katie nodded. “So I know about the taking the time to process it later thing. I don’t think I’ve dealt with all of it yet. And this,” She lifted her eyes and swept them across the sky, the river, the rocks, the road that ran past the factory and the cliffs that rose on the other side of the river. Her eyes settled on the sunrise. “This isn’t over by a long shot. Who knows how or when it will end? I guess we’ll deal with what we can and keep the rest moving, you know?”

Yeah. They were just kids though… even Lydia,” Conner said.

Katie nodded. “They weren’t sweet little innocent kids. I’ve seen gang bangers all of my life. I grew up with that. It’s really a way of life. Sometimes, for some kids, it’s the only way of life there is. I ran myself for a while.” She frowned.

All I’m saying is, they weren’t sweet little innocent kids. And believe me, nothing you could’ve said, had you been there, would’ve changed anything. Believe me. I tried to talk to one of them. No good. And the other one I shot didn’t even bother to try talking.”

Conner nodded, took an experimental sip from his mug, then a longer satisfying drink. “I see it,” he said. “This city has a lot of drug trade and with the base over in Jersey so close by, even more, but I had never been in a gang or knew what one was really about until I was introduced to that life in Rochester as a kid. When I came back here, I saw more and more of it. Now it’s everywhere you look.” He seemed startled for a moment. “Was… Was everywhere you looked,” he added thoughtfully.

There is still good in the world. This didn’t just take the good people and leave the bad,” Katie said. She took another long sip from her coffee. Her eyes met Conner’s own; he leaned over and kissed her lips softly. She smiled and took the coffee mug from his hands, set it down, took his hands and pulled him to his feet.

“Come on,” she said and kissed him once more. Conner kissed her back and pulled her body closer to him. His hands encircled her waist and rested on her hips. Her tongue probed gently as her own hands found the back of his head. She drew back, giggled and then pulled him toward the river and the screening growth of trees, and bushes farther down the road.


March sixteenth, Conner thought, would always be remembered as the day that didn’t quite happen. The sun never really rose. A half light lit the sky for the next forty-two hours, but the sun itself never made an appearance through the thick, black clouds that blocked off the sky from horizon to horizon, dark and moving swiftly across the skies.

The sun seemed to creep around the perimeter of the horizon from the West where it first appeared, to the East where it finally sank, setting the sky on fire with its pink-red light only to fade away without ever actually rising.

The air became warmer throughout the day, and what little snow remained melted away. Everyone noticed a queasy feeling in their stomachs, and a few commented on feeling something similar a few weeks back right after the first earthquakes had hit.

As the day wore on a fine gray ash began to fall from the skies. The skies grew even darker as the ash fell down faster, like dirty snow.

After several hours, the landscape around the factory looked as though everything was covered with a thick coat of dust. Everyone fashioned cloths around their mouths to avoid breathing in the thick haze of ash.

The ash was followed by a slow dirty rain that turned the piles of ash into a slushy, runny kind of mud, and just before the sun finally fell in the East, the rain began to fall harder, the air turned cold, then colder still, and lightening began to stab at the gray and sullen skies above the factory.


Everyone huddled around the fire on the factory floor, talking very little. They shared a meal of canned beef stew and crackers. The stew was hot and drove away the cold that had returned, but it did nothing to lift their spirits.

James offered to take the first watch, Conner volunteered for the next and Jake offered to take it from there if the sun wasn’t up.

Conner held Katie in his arms and drifted off to sleep, thinking about what the day might mean and what the morning down by the river with her had been like.

West of Mexico NY: Mike

Things had gone bad fast. There had been two significant earthquakes, The first time he had nearly wrecked the truck, the second one came as he was pulled to the side of the road trying to ease the pain that had come back full tilt in his head. The truck leapt forward, and then darted sideways, Mike managed to get his hand out to stop his head from smashing into the dashboard, but only barely. The truck had finally stopped rocking and the world came back into focus. He pulled the truck back onto the roadway, careful of all the new cracks and devastation, and found his way to a small roadside strip mall a few miles farther down.

The lot was deserted. Half the store at the opposite end was collapsed. A small mini mart, a drug store and a pawn shop were still standing; untouched. He had made his way into the small store, found the drug aisle and was surprised to see it intact. The one back in Rochester had been emptied of drugs.

The leg was swollen against the pants material, the rags he had wrapped around it had stopped the blood flow, but had done nothing for infection. He peeled the rags away now, taking a good part of his skin with it, and looked the wound over.

Something had punched a deep hole into his leg. The area that had pulled away was oozing puss now, the skin around it red and swollen. He had helped himself to a bottle of peroxide, some antibiotic creme, iodine and some bandage. He scrounged up a fast meal while he worked up the nerve to work on the leg. He probably wouldn’t feel like eating afterwards.

He had no fever, and he counted that as a good thing. He finished some energy bars and three bottles of water before he limped off to find what he still needed. Two aisles over he found a small knitting needle. The point was sharp. It was wide enough to allow him to push it in to get to the abscess he was sure was there. He carried it back to the aisle then decided maybe something to help with the pain might help. He searched, but there was nothing stronger than beer in the now warm coolers, and that was covered with a gray moss he didn’t want to chance touching. The drug store nearby probably had some pain pills he could take, but he wouldn’t know how much would be safe. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be out of it in this world any longer. Maybe later, he decided. He would have to visit to get antibiotics anyway. Reluctantly he limped back to the aisle and sat with his back against the shelving as he arranged the items he needed around him.

The peroxide came first. He broke the seal and poured half the bottle over the wound. There was some pain, but the bubbling and foam that appeared told him what he had already guessed, the infection was bad.

He spun the top off the iodine, spilled a little into the dimple of the puncture wound and then inserted the knitting needle into the bottle and left it to soak in the iodine. He wasn’t positive if it could disinfect it, but he was reasonably sure it could. The pain was intense when the iodine hit the raw wound, but it abated after a few moments. He picked up the needle, but just touching the wound with it sent shock waves of pain up his leg.

He stopped, stretched backwards against the shelving, bracing himself firmly. His breathing was hard and fast, tears had squirted from his eyes and stained his dirty cheeks as they rolled away to his jaw line. Sweat had instantly broke out on his brow. He couldn’t stop at a mere touch. He had to shove the needle down far enough to be sure he punctured the abscess so it could drain. He steeled himself, took a deep breath, centered the needle over the dimple and drove it down into his leg before he could think anymore about it. The pain came fast, but his mind shut down just as quickly.

He had awakened hours later, the sunlight lower in the front windows. The leg was draining freely, fresh blood now, but he could see that the poison had also drained. His head felt better, his stomach more settled. He took his time and grimaced only slightly as he poured first the remaining peroxide into the wound, and then the balance of the iodine. Both hurt, but the pain was nothing like it had been. Antibiotic creme and some bandage and he was finished. He sat, staring down at his hands. Dirt, blood, who knew what else. He made his feet and limped off into the store looking for supplies for the road. A few moments later he was loading them into the passenger side of the truck. A quick search through the drug store turned up antibiotics, an ace bandage that might help, and some vitamins. He didn’t know if the vitamins could help, but he was sure they couldn’t hurt. A few minutes later he had bent the pawn shop’s steel mesh, protective door open and smashed out the front door glass with a jack handle from the truck. The exercise was making his leg hurt, but the skies were turning dark and he wanted to hurry before nightfall came.


I hope you liked this preview of Rising From The Ashes. You can get this book at Nook, I-Tunes, Amazon, Smashwords and many other book sellers, or you cam use the direct links below…



The Earth’s Survivors Series

Earth’s Survivors

Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse

Series: Earth’s Survivors · Free eBooks. Price: Free! Words: 94,690. Language: English. Published: January 30, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » General,Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic


Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive. Small groups band together for safety, leaving the ravaged cities behind in search of a new future…

Earth’s Survivors Rising From The Ashes

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 80,570. Language: English. Published: January 13, 2013 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Fantasy » Epic
Earth’s Survivors Rising From The Ashes continues to follow the survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The small groups are growing, branching out in search of a new future. It chronicles their day to day struggles as well as their dreams as they search out new hope in their shattered world…

Earth’s Survivors: The Nation

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 93,940. Language: English. Published: February 9, 2013 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic
This part of the story really concentrates on the formation of The Nation and the people who will build it and carry it forward, but it also brings along the side story of The Fold and the people who will build that haven. It gives a more complete picture of Adam and Cammy, and picks up the Tale of Billy and Beth, Mike and Candace, Conner and Katie as they work to sort out their lives.

Earth’s Survivors: Home In The Valley

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 98,190. Language: English. Published: April 7, 2013 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Horror » General
Home in the valley concentrates on the building of the first and most important settlement of The Nation. The valley settlement is where the people that run the Nation will come from. They will rise to leadership positions across the former United States. The first supply trip out for the Nation nearly turns to disaster, and more of the separate parties join and become one under the Nation Flag.

Earth’s Survivors: Plague

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 108,600. Language: English. Published: September 1, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias,Fiction » Horror » Undead
Plague outlines the sudden rise of the dead, chronicling the spread across the country. It follows Adam, Beth, Billy and Pearl as they head north looking for an antidote that can bring the plagues to end. It also sees the first babies born to the Nation, the formation of both the Fold and Alabama Island, and the loss of one of the founders of The Nation without whom the Nation may dissolve…

Earth’s Survivors: Watertown

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 102,860. Language: English. Published: February 17, 2016 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic,Fiction » Thriller & suspense » Crime thriller
Major Weston read the report twice and then carefully set it back on his desk. Johns or Kohlson: One of the two had stolen samples of SS-V2765. It was not a question. No one else had the access, no one else the proximity or knowledge of where it was stored. Two of the virus, one each of the REX agents were missing. Enough to infect several million people, and that was just the initial infection…

Earth’s Survivors: World Order

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 181,980. Language: English. Published: May 1, 2016 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic,Fiction » Horror » Undead
This book steps back to the beginning to bring you the story of the Fold. Jessie Stone, why and how Snoqualmie settlement came to be. It begins in present day and then falls back in time to the beginning of the Apocalypse. The Fold becomes the biggest challenger to the Nations power. The community that can force the Nation into compromise, or bring a war that may destroy both societies.

Earth’s Survivors Box Set

Series: Earth’s Survivors. Price: $7.99 USD. Words: 745,740. Language: English. Published: September 11, 2016 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic,Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias
Earth’s Survivors box set contains the entire Earth’s Survivors series in one volume. All seven books in one collection. Follow the survivors as they struggle to survive in a vastly changed world, where the living are just as likely to kill you as the dead are.  The release of this box set puts the series to an end. I have enjoyed writing it, I hope you have enjoyed reading it, Dell Sweet.



Posted 11-05-2016 Dell Happy Holidays: This is the time of year where everyone I meet is either really happy and full of the holiday spirit, or really miserable and waiting for the season to be over. It is a real eye opener to take a trip to the local Walmart. I had to make a trip to the post office the other day, Friday, with my Mother. This is the way Mom does things; We’re drinking coffee, watching the morning news, I’m going through all of my overnight emails and posting/printing what I need, Mom stands up and says, “Well, we better get going.” “Um…” I say. Mom just looks at me like I’m an idiot. I’m pretty sure that I am part idiot, on my Father’s side, of course, but I don’t like acknowledging it. “Uh,” I try. “Well,” Mom says as she turns away and heads for the coat rack with her purse. “If we’re going to the post office we better get going.” Two things here: When Mom picks up her purse, she’s going somewhere. Two; she never tells me before hand, although she believes she does, or, more disturbing to me, I believe she doesn’t. “Well. You have to mail that thing to your brother, and I have to get stamps,” Mom says. She actually stops and turns around to look at me. The thing to my brother is not even packaged yet. It isn’t packaged yet because she told me to wait as she had packages to send with it. “Uh, I thought you said to wait?” “We did.” I looked down at my laptop and the emails. Obviously I wasn’t going to be reading that stuff right now. I got up and got the thing boxed up as quick as I could, went back on-line for a few moments and printed a shipping label, grabbed two other packages that needed to go, and headed for the door… The post office was no big deal. You might ask what this has to do with Jolly Moods and Walmart. Well, after we left the Post Office, Mom announced that she needed to make a quick trip to Walmart. There is no such thing as a quick trip to Walmart. Not with Mom. And, I don’t even need to say it, and if I did it would make no difference, I thought we were only going to the post office! First there was parking, at Walmart, on a Friday. The parking lot was jam packed with jolly shoppers shaking fists and dropping F bombs all over the place. “Don’t listen, Mom,“: I told her. “If that $#@& thinks he’s taking that $#%@*&# spot, he’s got another think coming,” Mom said as she accelerated and swung into a just vacated spot. “Uh,” I said. The guy in the truck she had slammed the parking door on blew his horn. “Hey!” I said. I waved one hand, was tempted to pop up one finger and didn’t. I just smiled and waved like we were best friends or something. “?$#@%^,” Mom said. She opened the door and leaned out but the guy looked away and then drove off. Frightened away by a little old lady. The store was a treat. I have agreed to always be on my best behavior in Walmart… The supermarket… Sears… Well, pretty much everywhere I don’t want to be. But that is not an easy task, especially at this time of year with all the happy couples and shoppers, or Halloween with all the kids, or Valentines day with all the In Love people. Mom just throws her purse into one of those electric carts and she’s gone. Pity the fool that steps in front of her. A year or so ago I went with my aunt and my Mom to the same store. My aunt recently passed, but that day she was heading for the produce aisle and you can believe she got there fast. Never mind the little kid she almost ran down or the man she actually drove into, and that was just inside the doorway. I looked for Mom but she was gone already. Off to the other end of the store no less. I opened my mouth that day with my aunt and these words fell out: “Um… Do you need help?” “Yes,” she said. What fun that had been, but I truly believe I saved a few lives that day. Since then I have learned not to hang around. Make sure all the small children are out of the way and then head in another direction. And, don’t look back unless there is screaming… Loud screaming… So Friday Mom twisted the throttle and rocketed away. She sideswiped a pallet of Christmas stuff, an old man with a cane watched her carefully, I was sure he intended to club her if she got too close, but they passed each other with nothing but dirty looks. Meanwhile I’m standing in the aisle watching. On Friday… With Christmas shoppers everywhere. “What the #$@%!” A jolly shopper said as he went around me, glaring at me “Oh, Ed,” his wife said. “Don’t be so…” He dragged her away. “Excuse me,” I said. I turned and nearly walked into a mother and her forty two children she was dragging through the store. “Eeeek,” she said. Or, it sounded like Eeeek to me. I turned back around and one of her kids darted around me and stuck his tongue out as he went. “Make yer #$%^@#$ mind up,” a young guy said as he darted to the right and shot around me. His girlfriend, wife, obviously in love with him, shot me a pitying look as he dragged her by me. “And a Merry #$%@^&% Christmas to you too,” I muttered. I spied a partly empty aisle and slipped into it. Why was the aisle pretty much deserted? Feminine hygiene products. And, no, I don’t own a vagina of my own. Apparently they don’t have any holiday editions of those things, and I can not imagine they are very often given as gifts… “You know, Bob. I was thinking of getting Alice one of those fancy whatchamacallits in the feminine hygiene aisle for Christmas.” “Fred, Alice will kill you.” “But, they’re supposed to be…” “She’ll kill you, Fred. Kill you.” Hence the aisle was empty. I glanced around briefly, some old guy passing the mouth of the aisle shot me a look that said he was shocked I was in that aisle, like I was doing something bad. That reminded me, as I looked around once more, that there was nothing there for me. I did not possess the necessary equipment to be in that aisle, so I left. I made my way through the merry crowd of shoppers, happy couples and wild children, picked up a few more swear word combinations that even I hadn’t known and found the home office section. The home office section, the electronics section and the automotive section are pretty much my go to places. I can always find something there to look at and usually buy too. Of course it’s Christmas shopping mania time, so you really can’t stop to look, you sort of have to look far ahead, judge the crowd speed, and then snatch up what you wanted as you pass it by. Don’t get it on the first go around? Tough $%#@. Get back in line and try again. I left there with my padded mailers I had needed and headed for the grocery part of the store. 6000 shoppers looking for food. All holiday happy. Sure. It was easy to find Mom, I just looked for ripples in the crowd, and listened for the occasional scream or shout. It led me right to her. Here is how I shopped when I was single: Wait for payday… (Why is it I made just as much money single as I did married, yet when I was single I was always broke waiting for payday?) So, while waiting for payday, I wrote down all the things I needed. I mean an exhaustive list. Should I pick up some feminine hygiene products in case a female friend comes over and needs them? Better, just to be safe. Cereal? Meat? I made nice lists. Meanwhile, I never ate at home. I stopped at fast food places all of the time because I was young enough to eat whatever I wished and get away with it. About the time payday came around I realized that and took another look at my lists: Mustard? Absolutely. What else can you put on a Bologna sandwich? Tampons? Did I really write that down? Cereal? What? Uh… Oh yeah, Bologna… And Beer… and bread, the other loaf from two months ago is moldy That was it. So I would go to the store, directly to the three places I needed to go, and in under a minute I was at the checkout, elbowing a little old lady out of the way, ready to go. Not so with Mom. Mom has to make the entire circuit. Not only did she not tell me when we left home that we would also be going to Walmart after the post office, but now that we’re there she has jumped right into the spend, spend, spend Holiday attitude, no doubt brought on by all the cussing. Do we have to go to every aisle? Yes. We do. I trailed along listening to bitching and griping from all the other men and women that also didn’t want to be there. “Listen, Barb. I don’t give a $#$% if we have a %^$%$#@ Turkey or a %$^&# Ham…” “No… I didn’t run over your foot… Yeah? Well %^$# you and your old lady too.” “What did you say?” A nearby mother grabs her kid and protectively drags him away. “Mommy, Mommy, I think that one guy is gonna $%#@ up that other guy… Mommy … Mommy…” Mom just drove right through the middle of them. “Sorry,” I said as I followed behind Mom. I’ll tell you the truth it defused the argument, and that was probably good news for the one guy as the other guys wife looked like she could have kicked his @#$ in a minute, and was about to. We finished Moms circuit, purchased six hundred things we really didn’t need, and headed for home. Back home I wondered over all of that holiday cheer. So much love from the couples and family members I saw in the store. The holidays in general. Am I missing the closeness and togetherness of being married? Being in a relationship? Is the holiday season better for those folks? Then I remembered just how it was in those relationships I had, and that every one of them ended, was over. And that there was a reason for that. Are you #$%^&$@ crazy? I asked myself. Probably, I agreed. No. Going to Walmart just reminded me that some married folks are just looking for opportunities to kill each other, or anyone else. They are miserable and the holidays only make it worse. Hey, when you are single you only get lonely. And you don’t have to go to Walmart! … Unless your Mom tricks you into it… I don’t think I’m going to Walmart for awhile… One last word on ex-wives: A person actually said this to me the other day. “Oh yeah. I’m friends with my ex, aren’t you?” “Um, no… None of them,” I said. “Huh. My ex likes me.” “Yeah… Mine doesn’t.” The uncomfortable silence fell right about then. “So… what about those Jolly %#@&*^$ shoppers at Walmart,” I asked? “Oh… Those $#@^@&%,” he said. Okay. That was my week. I hope you are all having a great holiday. I did my shopping online. Lazy, I know. Oh well. I’ll be back next week. ……………………………. Check out my Amazon page if you get a chance:
Source: Thought Bites

Free eBook Friday

Friday is here: The following two books will be FREE downloads on Amazon only for the next three days. Yep, Friday, Saturday and Sunday too. Enjoy, Dell…

knock                                es-col2a

Earth’s Survivors Collection Two: This contains books three and four in the Earth’s Survivors series. This isn’t a crippled version, normally it sells for 5 u.s. dollars, it is just a gift to get you rolling in the right direction for the series. I hope you enjoy and I hope you leave feedback to, Dell…
by Geo Dell (Author, Editor), Dell Sweet (Author)

Knock is not part of a series but a single stand alone story about the apocalypse. It is also free for the next three days. Have a great Friday and a better weekend! Dell Sweet.
Knock Kindle Edition
by Dell Sweet (Author)