My husband and I took our Son Christopher on a flight from Seattle to Los Angeles. My step son Christopher had Duchene’s Muscular Dystrophy. When we boarded the plane in Seattle, a very nice pilot by the name of Gary, asked us if we wanted to show Christopher the cockpit. My husband carried him in for a look around. Chris was 15 years old at the time. His face just lit up, and he told us that when he became well he wanted to become a pilot. It made me cry. The flight was wonderful and the entire crew was just great to Chris. When we landed Gary asked us if he could have our address so he could send Chris a card. Chris was so excited that this kind man wanted to write to him.

Several weeks later Chris received a card in the mail. It was from Gary, inside was a beautiful card and attached to it was a pair of Wings. He told Chris that he had earned them while he was in the service and wanted Chris to have them. We put the wings on Chris and he just did not want to take them off. After that all he did was talk about the pilot that sent him a pair if wings, he even took them to school to show his friends. About three months later Chris had his 16th birthday. That Saturday there came knock on the door. It was the pilot that sent him the wings. He wanted to see how Chris was doing. He had a surprise for Chris; he brought him one of his old pilot jackets that he also wore in the Service. Chris was just beside himself and of course I cried. We immediately put the Wings on the Jacket and took some pictures of Chris wearing his new flight jacket. I have never seen him so excited. Gary told us that he lived in Fontana and was on his way to LA for a flight and wanted to see Chris. (more…)

On Thursday, I made a trip out of the office to the local coffee shop in Fells Point. It was an overcast, warm blanket kind of day. A caressing wind stirred the air and I was driving slowly, looking for a parking place on cobblestone streets that knew horses hooves way before they knew tires. On my right was the water, and my left, the colorful array of stores that line Thames Street. The street is wide enough that it allows for vertical parking on both sides, but finding a place is still near impossible. So I rolled slowly, finally inventing a space at a corner. And that’s when the song came on, bringing back a memory of hearing it for the first time. I had leaned forward to turn off the ignition and get out of my car, but once the first few notes started, and Mick Jagger’s haunting, almost taunting voice floated over the guitar chords, I sat back and let it play.

I was thirteen years old at the time, lying in bed at home in a quiet suburban development in Kansas. The song had long been released, but this was my first time hearing it. I was a captive audience. My window was open, breathing the cold breath of a fall night over my cheek and hands. All was quiet except for my radio, and I was huddled under several comforters. However, it wasn’t the wind that was giving me chills. (more…)

I came to Japan 5 years ago with about $2,000 US dollars, very little experience, no Japanese ability, few marketable skills and no friends or contacts. My original goal in coming to Japan was to study martial arts for a month, but after one week living in Tokyo I made the decision to try to live here. After making this decision, reality set in. I would need to find a place to live and a job. Which should I look for first?

After one week of living in a hotel in Tokyo, my account was already down to $1,400. I didn’t want to find an apartment, and then get a job very far from my apartment. I decided to focus on finding a place to live. I found a free magazine called Tokyo Classifieds, and noticed an ad from a new company called Sakura House. I called them up, and they told me about a vacancy in a guest house near Tsukiji . I went and looked at the apartment - it was a tiny room with a shared kitchen, toilet and shower. It was very close to the station, and quite central in Tokyo. I immediately accepted, and moved in. Unfortunately, it cost a deposit of $200 and the first months rent to move in - a total of $900. I was down to $500, and I was starting to sweat. (more…)

“She sounds hot.” – Russell

“I am afraid to talk to my grandmother… my voice shakes when I talk to my grandmother.”

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“I cannot wear contact lenses because I have bumps on my eyeballs.”

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“I have a keychain collection. My favorite keychain is from peru.”

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(When i asked her why her hand was all bandaged up):
“Oh i sprained my wrist… it just happens every three months.”

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(When offered a piece of cake from a co-worker)
“I want to eat it but i can’t eat it. I can’t eat it because I am going home soon. If i bring cake home I won’t be the one to eat it. I have a real sweet tooth.”

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“I live in an illegal apartment.” (more…)

Time: 4:45 AM
Place: M.G. Road Indore

After a long day, I decided to ease off. And what could be the best way to loose the neurons than a long drive in the wee hours. I cranked up my bike and headed to the busiest road in my town which is very calm at this hour. No Pollution, cool early morning breeze. It was heavenly. The speedometer is reading 110. That kind of speed does something to you. You are not driving anymore — flying is the word. I forget that it’s a city road and the speed limit is 40. Everything is blurred out of vision except the black strip in front. So calm, so serene and peaceful. The handle bar, gear peddle and the accelerator are not mechanical anymore, The bike is an extension of me. The musical rhythm of the four stroke engine eliminates all other noise…….. Noise from outside…….. Noise from Inside. And if you are thinking at all then your only wish would be that this moment shall never pass.

Right now is one such moment. Something catches my attention…… a few meters down the Road is a square and the road divider that’s 3 feet high is ending at that point. A cycle is appearing from its edge, 1 rider 2 pillions. Very slow … very balanced and totally unaware of me. In a moment I will hit them at 110 and then I will slide for 100 meters and I won’t be able to notice what happened to them. Turning the handle is not an option — If I try it I’ll be flat and it’ll be a full on collision — can I slow down??? No, too late for that even, jamming the wheels wont make any difference now. I will hit the middle and that will be the worst . I can feel each rotation of the wheel…. inching towards a deadly collision. They noticed my honk and turn their heads toward the source. I am looking at those men and the fear in those 3 pairs of eyes and they are looking at the object of their fear. My heart jumps into my mouth and then sinks deep down somewhere. My body is perspiring, I feel like I’m burning, and the next moment it evaporates and I am colder. I can feel raised hair on the back of my neck. And then the sensation is gone…. I am awake…. all awake ….. and I can do nothing to avoid this collision…….. I am watching them and they are watching me. Ohhhh god I am going to kill these men……….. Its all black……. or……… blank

And we passed each other without touching, without hurting. A slight deflection of the handle bar helped.

Credit: Submitted to StoryLog with no author name provided