Zobostic - Left 2 Write

Thursday, May 28, 2026

There is something calming and quiet here,

while still feeling like we're part of something

much bigger.

and yet - it all works out

There are more branches than birds

Less stories than words

More books than are flicks

Fewer dogs than are ticks

More water than beer

More days than are years

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

In case you were wondering

It smells like you just came from the Barber Shop.

Show me the Cheese

There was a bird upon the bench

without a hammer, without a wrench

said he knew a carpenter mouse

for a bite of cheese

would build him a house,

Without a nail or any glue

the mouse he knew

just what to do,

"There will be a porch

and a backyard swing

and an inside shower

should you want to sing,

bur Mr. Crow they'll be no roof

until there's cheese

I need some proof."

"I haven't got your cheese as yet,

but I've seen some cheddar

I can get."

"I've dealt with Crows like you before,

you promise me someday you'll pay

I build your walls and add a door

then you up and fly away."

"Trust me, you will have your cheese

I'll bring so much that you'll get fat,

I have one more addition please,

I'd like a fancy Welcome Mat."

Before

Before you get dressed

Before you get on the freeway

Before you sit in traffic, squinting into the sun

Before you walk into work

Before you look at the pile of work on your desk

Before you face the day ahead of you

And before the boss walks in and asks if you’re

done yet…

Remember the Scout Moto

Be Prepaired

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

The envelope was wedged in with many others. Nothing about it stood out. It was just another correspondence laying quietly in someone’s In-Box. Because it was a holiday weekend, nothing had been touched in several days. I’m sure that if anyone had known what was in the letter it would have been hand-carried to Clara Norris immediately, and the whole ugly mess might have been avoided.

But it wasn’t and now three people were dead, and one lone woman stood at the entrance preventing anyone from leaving. She held no weapon, but with one hand on the doorframe, she had a look on her face that no one dared to challenge. Was she keeping them safe inside or preventing what might happen if they went out? Even Joseph, the custodian who has known her forever, wasn’t able to read her face. He kept his distance across the lobby, mop in hand, just watching.

Finally, building up his courage, he rested his mop handle against the column and simply ignoring all warning signs, walked up to the woman blocking the entrance and in a calm, rational voice said, "Please, just answer me this. What is it this writer thinks he's doing by starting all these stories and then just leaving us hanging? I personally don't like it. Is he ever going to go back and finish anything? I'm not sure what we're supposed to think."

The woman looked Joseph in the eye and said, "Well, have you seen what's in the letter?"

"Joseph took a step back, looking a little puzzled. "No, according to the beginning of this story, it hasn't ever been opened. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Look, I can't do it all. I'm here in the story with all of you, I can't be just someone out there reading it. I have stuff to do. I'm guarding this door and so far I don't even know why."

"Should we look ahead and see what happens?"

"We can't. He's still writing it."

"OK then, I'm going back to my mop. Good luck."

"Yes, you as well."