I strongly believe we are products of our surroundings and, unfortunately, when we are young our surroundings cannot be of our own choosing. We are born into the time we are born into, to those we are born to, and if we’re lucky… well, we’re just lucky. The thing is, we don’t have to carry the bad stuff from our past with us, and the sooner we realize this simple truth, the sooner we will become the person we can be. Countless times I have said, “I wish I’d known then, what I know now.” Now… I’m just glad I know it now. Read the rest of this entry »
Posts Tagged childhood fears
The Things I Carried
March 24, 2013 at 6:37 am · Filed under Bad Stuff, Some truth to it, Stories ·Tagged childhood abuse, childhood fears, children, dread, Friday night lights, keepsakes, letting go of the past, sadness, writer
Those Dreaded Friday Night Lights
August 22, 2011 at 8:31 am · Filed under Bad Stuff, Some truth to it, Stories ·Tagged author, Charles L. Mashburn, childhood abuse, childhood fears, childhood trauma, children, dread, family, Friday night, Friday night lights, old man, sadness, writer
I posted stories the last three days that spoke of my dad and the fear he instilled in me. I spoke of it in a lighthearted manner, but it was not actually so. I won’t go into great detail, but I will say my childhood was at times horrifying. This story will give you a glimpse into what it was like too much of the time. I won’t speak often of this. Read the rest of this entry »
Those Dreaded Friday Night Lights
April 7, 2011 at 2:32 pm · Filed under Bad Stuff, Some truth to it, Stories ·Tagged author, Be Still.... and know that I am God, Charles L. Mashburn, childhood abuse, childhood fears, childhood trauma, children, dread, family, Friday night, Friday night lights, old man, Pennies From Heaven, sadness, writer
The boy lay atop the wrinkled, threadbare sheet, sweat beading on his face, as he waited; waited for the sound of tires sighing on the narrow blacktop street… and the lights that would splash across his window as the old truck pulled into the yard. He waited with a sense of familiar, painful dread. Read the rest of this entry »
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Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still... and know that I am God" 