The Autograph

Moved me to tears. So I’m a big old sap. And…?

Morning Story and Dilbert

Morning Story and Dilbert Vintage Dilbert
May 01, 2001

It was June of 1968, and I was fleeing for my life, carrying my two-month-old, baby daughter. My brother had managed to scrape together enough money for a First Class ticket on an airplane traveling from Atlanta to Detroit. My first marriage had become too dangerous, and as I flew home to be with my family, I felt very agitated. Anything, God, I silently prayed. Anything to break the monotony of my own tortured thoughts.

Across the aisle from me was a very handsome and very friendly man. We started talking to each other. I introduced myself and he told me that his friends called him “Chuck.” As we were visiting, I just could not get out of my mind, that I knew this man from somewhere. I certainly knew no one who traveled First Class. The only reason I was in First Class was…

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4 thoughts on “The Autograph

  1. My pleasure. When the muse hasn’t taken me, and there’s something that somebody else said that is worthy of sharing, it’s always nice to spread the love. (Or at least, that’s one way of looking at it. Too darn idle to get off my oversized ass and write something is another. 😀 )

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