jackash.com
A Personal Journey...
... Of Surviving the Wilderness
This is a short story about overcoming your fears.
In 1991, at the age of 42, I had never worked on an IBM computer before (I used a Mac).
When the office brought in the new computers I knew I had to learn them or be left behind.
Too afraid and embarrassed to ask the youngsters in the organization about how to even turn them on,
I stayed late on Friday (and all day Saturday and Sunday) and taught myself how to use the word processing program - Word Perfect 5.1.
Writing this story was how I learned. As it was the first piece of fiction I had written on a computer I felt it deserved a '”place of honor” on my web site.
In 1991, at the age of 42, I had never worked on an IBM computer before (I used a Mac).
When the office brought in the new computers I knew I had to learn them or be left behind.
Too afraid and embarrassed to ask the youngsters in the organization about how to even turn them on,
I stayed late on Friday (and all day Saturday and Sunday) and taught myself how to use the word processing program -
Writing this story was how I learned. As it was the first piece of fiction I had written on a computer I felt it deserved a '”place of honor” on my web site.
by Jack Ash
The little wren flew without purpose as she enjoyed the morning sun. Riding the air currents as they blew in from the ocean she would fly as high as she could go and then she would swoop down and skim the tops of the flowers as they danced in the breeze.
Soon other birds started to join in the fun. Before long there was a whole flock of them banded together, flying up, down, round and round - how good it felt.
Then, from out of the group came a voice she recognized. It was a robin she had played with many times before. “This is too easy,” he chirped, “let's play follow the leader and see who can really fly".
The little wren was quick to join in. She had been born and raised in this meadow and knew every dip, cliff, knoll and even every branch of every tree. She had never lost at follow the leader and today was not going to be the first time.
A dozen or so birds, including the little wren, stuck close to the robin's tail as he flew through the fence, over the telephone wires, down through the creek bed, round the big rock at the water's edge, along the beach with their feet just nicking the sand, then hurtling toward and straight up the face of the rocky cliff.
By now half of the group had either missed a turn or given up and had dropped out - but not the little wren. She gave an extra flick of her wings and closed right up behind the robin. The robin crooked his head, glancing back. “It is nice to see you are still with me, but I do not think it will be for much longer,” he taunted.
With that the robin rocketed over the top of cliff, swerved right and raced down a people pathway, scattering kids and bicyclists as they ducked to get out of his way. He swooped over the snack bar, round the fountain and then flew straight up, as high as he could go.
Then he dove and wove his way in and out of the kites as they bobbed back and forth, once more around the fountain, up over the snack bar and headed straight for a group of trees.
The Story ..
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