This is a Flavin Story. For more, click on a title on the right side of the screen (desktop) or at the bottom (mobile). Click on menu items at top to explore other genres. On the morning that I woke…

> I looked out the window expecting to see an engine fire or the Twilight Zone guy tearing off pieces of the wing. <

> “I remember that, although we hung with the same crowd, you at some point had determined that I was a dick who needed his ass beat.” <

> If god didn’t help me beat Ronnie Rocheleau in 1979, why would show up in 1984 as I drove home in the middle of the night? <

The year was 1974, and it was like a bomb had dropped on 23111 Sherman Street. Then came 1983.

> “One white guy doesn’t change the fact that we’re black.” <

> My elbows stiffened, my neck refused to swivel, my view narrowed, and the pressure of the moment suddenly pinched like an improvised performance. <

> We knew, somehow, on some level: this was over. No visible damage, no evidence, no screams, crying or flailing. Just Matt holding his face. <

This is a Flavin Story. For more, click on a title on the right side of the screen (desktop) or at the bottom (mobile). Click on menu items at top to explore other genres. The 70’s was the same time-frame…

An Essay One-word Rule Every year, in the first week, teachers are asked to go over the school rules handbook. Lower classmen quietly endure it, while the upper classmen hated it because it’s the same thing every year. I hated…

> “I love the game because it’s so simple, yet it can be so complex.
There’s a lot of layers to it, but they aren’t hard to peel back.” — Ernie Harwell <

> We could usually see eye to eye on whether it was a bad idea. But sometimes it was a lousy idea and neither of us saw it. This is that story. <