Harold stretched out in his burgundy colored Lazy Boy chair. He owned a super deluxe model that could give him a massage similar to what you could get from visiting a professional masseuse. He looked at an abstract painting that was situated on one of the walls in his living room. This beautiful piece of art had a splatter design using only black and white colors. The painting would have put a smile on Jackson Pollock’s face.
“Are you injured from being tossed out of the truck onto the street? Can I get you an ice pack from the freezer?” Harold asked.
“It would probably be a good idea to put some ice on my back. I probably have a couple of nasty bruises, but it doesn’t feel like anything is broken. You rest in your chair, Harold. I’ll get the ice pack myself while I’m making a pot of coffee. What do you take in your coffee?”
I like Southern Butter Pecan International Delight coffee creamer along with two packets of Sugar Twin,” Harold answered.
“|gotcha. Your wish is my command.” Whisper said as she made her way to the kitchen. She liked walking across Harold’s retro yellow shag carpet. She had taken off her wet socks and sneakers and was now walking barefoot toward the kitchen. She noticed a family portrait on the wall that included Harold, his deceased wife and daughter and an unknown young man and woman.
After a few minutes had passed, Whisper returned to the living room with a cup of coffee for Harold, her hot chocolate and an ice pack for her back.
“What do the buttons on your chair do?” Whisper asked after she put the refreshments on a round glass coffee table.
“They are for giving you a message. Would you like to try it?”
“Sure,” Whisper said as Harold got up from his easy chair and exchanged places with Whisper on the sofa. It felt a bit damp where he sat on the couch as the snow that had been on Whisper’s sweat pants had melted.
Canadian author and internet pastor Ken David Stewart talks about dealing with emotional pain and the role of the artist in society.
About Page For Podbean Podcast
Hey, my name is Ken David Stewart. I’m a self published author and a substitute teacher. I have just finished writing my new novel, The Lake Demon which is presently available in the Kindle format at Amazon.ca and a paperback version is available through Amazon.com. I have two previous released books available on Amazon called The Wild and Hilarious World of the Roswell Gang (a play) and Summer Dreams (a novella). I am presently working on a new novel called Winter Dreams, the sequel to Summer Dreams.
I started writing about ten years ago. I was teaching drama to adult students at the time and was having a difficult time finding plays that would be relevant to this group of students. I finally decided to start writing my own plays. As my students seemed to be enjoying my writing I began writing on my own as an indie author.
My new podcast on Podbean is a work in progress. I already have some ideas as to what I want to include in The Ken David Stewart Podcast. I want to discuss my own writing, read excerpts from my own work, and review and recommend other authors’ work. As I am also a dedicated professional wrestling fan, I want to do some podcasts that deal with sports entertainment.
Listening to music is also one of my passions, so I would like to have some podcasts dealing with sports entertainment. I also have a strong interest in cryptozoology and would like to do some podcasts on this topic.
In under twenty minutes Rick and Misty arrived at Memorial Park. Misty couldn’t wait to get out of the car and have a look around.
“Look Rick. The park looks beautiful in the winter.”
“I can see that. Today’s snowfall makes it look even better. I love how the branches of the trees look when they’re covered by snow and the amber street lights reflect off them. There is so much in nature that we just don’t appreciate,” Rick said.
“Let’s walk through the park and go over the Osborne Bridge,” Misty suggested.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s do it,” Rick answered.
As he held Misty’s hand as they started to cross the bridge, Rick realized that this was the way he felt when he first met Sasha. This was definitely better than getting drunk or stoned. No feeling could compare to being in love.
The couple stopped walking when they were about half way across the bridge. Misty pointed out the beauty of the gnarled, snow covered branches of the trees on the river bank.
“This is a beautiful scene,” Rick agreed. If I had my sketch book with me I would start drawing what is right before our eyes,” Rick said.
“You’re an artist, too?” Misty asked with surprise.
“Yes, actually I’m pretty good at it. I mostly draw pictures of cartoon characters from Looney Tunes. Some of the little kids on our block like them,” Rick said.
“That’s another thing that we have in common. I like to draw too, mostly pictures of animals. I especially like to draw pictures of horses,” Misty said.
“That’s great. We should arrange a time when we both have our sketch books and do some drawing together,” Rick suggested. “Look Misty, there’s a Salisbury House just across the bridge. Could I buy you a coffee or a hot chocolate?”
“You bet,” Misty answered.
As soon as they arrived Rick found them a booth at the Salisbury House. When they got their winter clothing off, an attractive young waitress asked them for their order. Misty wanted a hot chocolate with marshmallows and Rick asked for a coffee.
The lights always seemed bright at a Salisbury House restaurant. The couple didn’t really notice but the Osborne Sals started to fill up with customers. As a result, all the ongoing conversations greatly raised the noise level.
Rick said, “You will need to speak up a little bit. I have trouble hearing in crowded places.”
“Why is that?” Misty asked.
“When I was a little boy I had a lot of ear infections. My doctor later told me that the infections probably reduced my ability to hear out of my left ear.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll speak more loudly for you.”
“I would appreciate that,” Rick said.
“Rick did you hear the rumour going around that I was hospitalized in a psychiatric ward when I was living in California?”