Exploring Winding Roads and Dusty Trails
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What is it that makes a person dream and come up with some of the wildest stories one can dare tell to a husband, wife, friend, or stranger? First of all, are they funny stories or scary stories? Are they stories anyone would dare to believe? Are they stories that ordinary people would really like to hear about or read about? And what in the world created such funny or unbelievable stories? Was it stress, or was it insomnia? Or are we just natural dreamers? My stories probably come to me from having too much time in my hands and thinking too much. The following stories probably came to me as d...
What is it that makes a person dream and come up with some of the wildest stories one can dare tell to a husband, wife, friend, or stranger? First of all, are they funny stories or scary stories? Are they stories anyone would dare to believe? Are they stories that ordinary people would really like to hear about or read about? And what in the world created such funny or unbelievable stories? Was it stress, or was it insomnia? Or are we just natural dreamers? My stories probably come to me from having too much time in my hands and thinking too much. The following stories probably came to me as dreams when I was doing a lot of daydreaming back in the seventies. At the time, I was pulling my weight while working at White's Auto Store warehouse in the small town of Shallowater, Texas. I was a certified forklift driver pulling orders, license, and all. I worked in what was called Area 8. I pulled the big boxed toys, bicycles, and lawn mowers. I also pulled the fertilizer bag orders. Working inside a warehouse had many disadvantages. There was always dust all over the place. The warehouse was always hot in summer and pretty cold in winter. Many times when it was slow, I would let my mind just wander off into oblivion. That's when my stories were born and began to take shape. Characters and names of characters would pop into my mind out of nowhere.
