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A Denouement
My father. My children’s grandfather. My friend.
by Jessi Clarkson, Skip’s daughter.

You haven’t heard from my father in a while. He has been absent from this blog for health reasons.
My sweet father passed away this Monday approximately 1:00 AM. My sisters and I gathered around his hospital bedside and held his hand as he slipped away into the immortal atmosphere.
My family…
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Annual Job Review
Annual Job Review: PDF
Annual Job Review
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The Heritage

The Heritage
A Short Story by
L. Stewart Marsden
It might have begun with Alex Haley’s phenomenon “Roots,” with its fictitious tracing forward of the ancestry and heritage of Kunta Kinte. When the TV series hit the airways, the nation became obsessed with the story — even though it was historical fiction.
My dad was crazy with the idea that our family was somehow linked to an Adjutant…
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Long Walks on the Beach
Long Walks on the Beach

(more…)
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Dominoes

Dominoes
L. Stewart Marsden
Part One
Frank Kramer rolled over and slowly opened one eye. The lids stuck from dried rheum, and he rubbed the mucus away. His vision was blurred, then cleared as he blinked repeatedly.
The red digital numerals of his bed stand table clock blocked to form 4:30. He had awakened an hour earlier than normal, and his brain seemed to swim loosely in his skull.
He…
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It’s Not Easy Being Green
It’s Not Easy Being Green

It’s Not Easy Being Green
L. Stewart Marsden
Control v. the lack of control is a conflict I’ve lived with for most of my life. It’s at the heart of AA’s mantra — and gaining the wisdom to know the difference is, in my experience, a life-long pursuit. In retrospect, I’ve been far more foolish than wise.
I’m hesitant to write these thoughts, as inevitably someone will point out there are no…
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#change#civil rights#control v. Lack of control#homophobia#It’s Not Easy Being Green#the good old days#Vietnam#women&039;s rights
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 10
The Womanless Man, Continued, 10
The Womanless Man Continued, 10
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment . . .
Go to story beginning . . .
* * * * *
Almost immediately after the words came out Stew regretted them. What the hell was he doing? It was his old self kicking in — the one who wanted to reach out and grab Simone’s hand for comfort. The needy man.
What was he looking for? A friend? A lover? A companion to take…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 9
The Womanless Man, Continued, 9
The Womanless Man Continued, 9
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment . . .
Go to story beginning . . .
* * * * *
“A toast! Here’s to getting that cast off your leg!”
They clinked glasses. Hers was a dry martini, his a Tom Collins.
“I, for one, am going to miss having to sit on the john with my leg extended on a footstool.”
Simone smiled and sipped her martini, swizzling the pearl onion…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 8
The Womanless Man, Continued, 8
The Womanless Man Continued, 8
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment . . .
* * * * *
“Come in! Come in, please!”
Stew was surprised and glad to see her. She stepped into the room.
“I was in the neighborhood, as they say, and thought I’d drop by to see how you’re doing. I hope you don’t mind.”
“God, no.”
She looked about for a place to sit. Stew pointed to the empty twin bed beside his.
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 7
The Womanless Man, Continued, 7
The Womanless Man
Continued, 7
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment . . .
* * * * *
Mrs. McGuilicutty fluffed the pillows behind Stew’s back, then straightened the sheets that covered him. She reminded him of his grandmother — and even smelled of talc.
“Is that better? Do you want anything? Water? Crackers? It’s stuffy in here — I can crack the window a bit for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs.…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 6
The Womanless Man, Continued, 6
The Womanless Man Continued, 6
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment …
* * *
“Hey, jackass! You gonna sleep all day again?”
He cracked open his eyes. A grinning, bald, fu Manchued Mr. Clean sat at the side of the bed, his face inches from Stew’s.
“Brent.”
“Live and in person! Damn, Stubie, you scared the shit out of me!”
“That was not my intent. What happened?”
“What happened? You…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 5
The Womanless Man, Continued, 5
The Womanless Man Continued, 5
L. Stewart Marsden
Go to previous installment . . .
* * *
Stew’s mind flashed as everything about him became slow and surreal. His emotions were panic, curiosity, and wry humor — in that order.
The panic was induced by what he saw in the beam of the flashlight before he dropped it, like a “gotcha!”moment in a slasher movie. Upright, swaying on its massive back…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 4
The Womanless Man, Continued, 4
The Womanless Man
L. Stewart Marsden
Continued, 4
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* * *
“How is it?”
Stew couldn’t tell any difference between regular chili and deer chili, so he chose the diplomatic response.
“Best chili I’ve ever had!”
“And no fat! Actually good for you. I don’t know what all the ruckus about hunting is about. See, you get exercise tramping about in the woods trying to find a…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 3
The Womanless Man, Continued, 3
The Womanless Man
L. Stewart Marsden
Continued, 3
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* * *
The rifle kicked back into his shoulder and interrupted the silence with a crack that echoed about the woods. As with the Daisy shot, Stew watched the bullet emerge from the smoking end of his gun, and saw it speed in slow motion toward the buck, who had lifted and turned his head toward the sound, the deer’s…
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The Womanless Man, Continued, 2
The Womanless Man, Continued, 2
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The Womanless Man
L. Stewart Marsden
… Continued, 2
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The blind had obviously been there for years. Brent found it one day on another hunting trip, and took some time to make small repairs.
“Now you take the fox pee and spread it around the place — sparingly though — it doesn’t take much.” Brent talked in a loud whisper.
Stew obeyed. As he circled…
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The Womanless Man, continued, 1
The Womanless Man, continued, 1
Continued
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ƒƒƒƒƒ
There were two things Stewart Walker had never before done. Deer hunting was one, and living without a female companion was the other. The abhorrence for the first and the need for the other were both part of his childhood, and ran deep in his veins.
As to deer hunting, or any kind of hunting at all, his anti mindset was the result of an accident that…
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The Womanless Man
The Womanless Man
L. Stewart Marsden
The alarm clock pierced his early-morning dreams. It was four AM. The nagging beep-beep-beep continued until he swung his arm over to fumble with the various buttons and press the alarm stop. The alarm died in mid-beep, and it was silent. The morning air was crisp and clear. His tinnitus hadn’t kicked in — yet. It was normally worse in the quiet of the…
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