Spring
Our Town – April 2022
The Soupster teeters on the brink.
Read MoreOur Town – May 6, 2021
The Soupster appreciates a melding of holidays.
Read MoreOur Town – April 23, 2020
The Soupster has springtime dreams of being on the water.
Read MoreOur Town – April 11, 2019
The Soupster offers Springtime advice.
Read MoreOur Town – March 14, 2019
There is definitely something on the Soupster’s mind.
Read MoreOur Town – April 19, 2018
The Soupster learns what goes around comes around.
Read MoreOur Town – March 22, 2018
Chickens and Eggs?
Read MoreOur Town – April 7, 2016
The Soupster inspires a flurry of activity before a dinner date.
Read MoreOur Town – March 12, 2015
A dreaming Soupster is egg-faced.
Read MoreOur Town – May 22, 2014
The Soupster is Inspired by Spring.
Read MoreOur Town – June 14, 2012
“Dear Great Uncle Arthur,” wrote the Soupster. “I hope this letter finds you in the best of health.” The Soupster stopped writing. Great Uncle Arthur was always complaining about his aches and pains. He might take the bland greeting as minimizing his suffering or, worse yet, sarcasm. The Soupster scratched out the previous line and…
Read MoreOur Town – May 3, 2012
“Coffee delivery,” the Soupster announced, as he approached the four men sitting and standing outside Giant Gene’s auto shop. Indeed, he carried a cardboard holder with four paper cups. “You’re a good man,” Giant Gene told the Soupster, taking the holder and distributing the cups. Charlie, also called Red, raised his in salute. Billy, called…
Read MoreOur Town – March 10, 2011
“Great Caesar’s debit card!” said the Original Soupster, pushing away the computer keyboard, frustrated. “Fireweed scramble!” “Uncle,” said the Soupster. “Calm down. Just tell me what it is you’re trying to access.” “Access? What do you mean access?” said the Original Soupster. “Don’t give me that Greek plaster! Speak English!” The Soupster took a deep…
Read MoreOur Town – February 24, 2011
“’This weather – ‘taint fit for man nor beast,” the Soupster said, sitting down with his friend Abigail in a cozy corner of the café. Outside, where it was 30 degrees, hail rained down at 75 degrees, bouncing a few inches off the parking lot asphalt and car roofs. “I went through at least four…
Read MoreOur Town – March 25, 2010
(Originally published March 22, 2007) “Two hundred and forty-seven eggs, wreck `em,’” the waitress called to the short-order cook in the Soupster’s dream about Spring. In his dream about Spring, the Soupster sat at a breakfast counter that hadn’t existed in Our Town for years. Two large dark-haired men sat on either side of him.…
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