jxmartin

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I have 725 stories published in one collection on the site.
My stories have been read 670333 times and 149 of my stories have been cherry picked.
22 of my 494 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 22 votes

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Joseph Xavier Martin

My stories

Cherry

Buffalo's Southern Island

Buffalo's Southern Island It is a place that exists more in the minds of those who live there, than anywhere else. You won't ever see the designation for it on any map reference. But, you will hear

The "Fifties" In America

THE "FIFTIES" IN AMERICA The coal truck backed gingerly into the narrow city driveway. It had a clearance of only a few inches on either side. The coal chute was lowered through the open basement window, so that it came to rest inside of the wooden coal bin. With a roar of rock on metal, and a cloud of black dust, the monthly fuel for the furnace was delivered. The chute was retracted and the coal truck pulled carefully out into the dead end street. Scatterings of small children dodged in and out of the alley, curious at anything out of the ordinary.
Cherry

My Father's Boots

MY FATHER'S BOOTS I saw them standing there in the corner, a pair of rubber fireman's boots. The top cuff on each boot was rolled down, revealing the brown canvass lining inside. The rest of the boots were made of shiny black rubber, with twin yellow lines circling the calf area and a yellow stripe where the hard rubber sole met the upper shoe of the boot. They were a little dusty and looked sort of forlorn sitting there in the corner of my mother's basement, at 24 Ramona Ave., in Buffalo, N.Y..

The Others

The Others Have you ever walked beneath the high & leafy canopy of a deep Forest? Everywhere, at the corner of your vision, you can sense movement. The unnatural quiet works upon the imagination and conjures up images from the surreal. You always think that you have just missed seeing something. It is from these "almost sightings that the legend of the "Others was born.

Food for Thought and Memory

Food for thought and memory Whenever I think about the mouth watering aroma of some special meal, cooking in the oven, I have to wonder at all of the meals I have consumed and appreciated in the past. At 57 years of age, I must have eaten enough food, over the years, to provision the Chinese Army during a month's maneuvers.

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