Seqribblers Gone Wild!

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Seqribbler's Gone Wild! is an anthology from the writing group Sequim Seqribblers, emerging authors from the Olympic Peninsula.

Inside you will find a selection of Memoir / Poetry / Short Story / Essay / Fiction.

Here are some excerpts from the works:

"The next morning, Tom left the hotel early and walked briskly to Marsh & McLennan’s office, 90-some floors above the city, overlooking not just New York but life itself."

"I often ride my tricycle
in my dreams
It is bright red
shiny
with white stripes
and tiny back wheels
that wobble side to side
shaking the basket
that sits between"

"For the first time in my life I understood what it meant to be in the moment. I felt totally and wholly there. I was not preoccupied with what was for dinner, who to call to get the raccoon out of the crawl space, or getting the plumbing fixed. I wasn’t concerned with what medical appointment he had tomorrow."

"Ralf had a beautiful Irish Setter who was his constant companion since the loss of his wife . Ralf treated the Setter as if she was human. The dog was purebred and named Morning-glory Ulysses Degage and was nicknamed, of course, Morn."

"It’s too shallow, of course, but the hot water feels good as I sigh and try to empty my anxious mind. My belly sticks out of the water, making a pale island. Smiling, I remember being pregnant with our daughter, Greta, and how she kicked a bar of soap off my belly, once, while I was bathing. The smile falls away abruptly as I compare the joy of that pregnancy to the terror and uncertainty of this one."

"FIVE, FOUR, THREE, the crowd starts to roar-for me! TWO, ONE…. AND SHE’S OFF FOLKS! The roaring increases as my dogs bolt forward quickly reaching 25 miles per hour with me holding on for dear life as I stand on my brake to slow the dogs down as we leave the street and head down the trail."

"I will never know if Dad knew what had happened, but I think he did. That moment was Dad’s last sign of affection towards Mom, and I think it was the last time Mom really looked into Dad’s eyes. It seemed as though Mom couldn’t bring herself to do that anymore. She still said, “I love you,” but those words faded in time. Maybe because Dad never responded."

"I was in love. True love. He was TDH—tall, dark, handsome. It was the summer between third and fourth grade. I was a mature eight years of age. Almost into the double digits after all. I admit he was a little older. But what is age? Forty-two years was nothing in the big scheme of things. He was so debonair. He could carry a lit cigarette and a glass of scotch in the same hand. He made it look effortless."

Author John Bertholl explains, “Seqribblers bring you everything but the kitchen sink; join the Seqribblers in laughter, tears, and revelation.”