A. J. Schoenfeld
Bio
I only write about the real world. But if you look close enough, you'll see there's magic hiding in plain sight everywhere.
Achievements (9)
Stories (99)
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Puppy Love
In the beginning he was just a teeny tiny ball of black fluff. He was nervous and would shake until we picked him up and cuddled him close. We were more than happy to accommodate him. He was the most adorable snuggly thing imaginable. He'd jump about so excited when we brought out the leash and took him for walks. At first, he'd tug and he'd pull then he'd lag behind. Sometimes he'd slip right out of his collar. But we gently taught him to walk right by our side. Soon he learned to stay with us, even without a leash. Though he'd tucker out halfway home and I'd have to carry him back.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Petlife
The Last Sunset. Honorable Mention in Through the Lens Challenge.
It's a little blurry and not the best composition. The sky it captured was not the most spectacular. But this snapshot has become one of my most favorite. When I look at it, I go back to an autumn evening a quarter of a century ago.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Photography
Somewhere Between Godhood and Delusion
My existence floats somewhere between godhood and delusion. Creation, destruction, and attachments to figments of imagination are all normal occurrences in my daily life. When I stop and think about what it is I really do, it's honestly a little disturbing.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Motivation
In His Hands
Almost instinctively, we casually intertwined our fingers and absent-mindedly rubbed our thumbs in circles periodically across the back of the other hand. We had done the same thing day after day for a quarter of a century, touch being an essential love language for us both. If we were near enough, inevitably our hands found each other and settled into their own lover’s embrace. On this occasion we sat at a back corner table in a piano bar on a cruise ship. The tiny bar teemed with other passengers, most a little tipsy, all seemingly enjoying the talented crooning and gentle humor of the British pianist as he regaled us with classic rock ballads. Many shouted requests, including the lady insistent he play some song she couldn’t remember but he must know. (She seemed more than just a bit tipsy and we never did figure out what song she wanted.) The crowd swayed back and forth in rhythm, halfway between a dance and a counterbalance to the rocking of the ship.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Beat
Stormy Story Time
Outside the wind howled like a banshee as it lifted fallen snow up from the banks to dance through the sky with the heavy flakes still falling from above. Branches of the old sycamore tree out front waved back and forth groaning from the weight of the building snow and scratching against the frost coated window pane. The sound drove a chill up Jane's already freezing spine as she hurriedly changed into her footie pajamas. As she pulled up the zipper, she bravely crept to the window sill and peered out. The only thing visible was a small glowing white orb from the street lamp on the corner, its feeble light trying in vain to penetrate the dense wall of fog and snow. It seemed as though the wind had blown away the rest of the world leaving only Jane's house and a single lamp to be buried in the snow. The thought sent yet another chill up her back.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Families
The Lull of a Windless Day
The sun climbed high into the sky, filling the air with light and heat. In the fields, boys wiped sweat from their brows and glared angrily at the sun. Women hid on their porches with their crying babes, trying to find a little relief in the sparse shade. Plants withered in the blazing heat as mud dried into cracking cakes of dirt. Without the cooling rush of wind, nothing seemed to enjoy the heat of the sun.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Fiction
The Waltz of a Windy Night
Wind perched sullenly at the top of the cliff, anxiously looking for the next great adventure. Darkness began falling across the land. Deep in the heart of the forest, a light began flickering cheerful orange and bright yellow. Both curious and hopeful, Wind swooped down for a closer look.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Fiction
Destruction of a Windy Day. Top Story - October 2024.
Far off in the distance, behind the cliff where wind perched, the mountains settled into rolling plains. Across the horizon, a wall began forming, dark and ominous. Made of an entirely different type of cloud then those that rain played in above the ocean or the fluffy ones in whose folds the sun snoozed. Wind knew that hail hid in the dark folds of these vapors and electricity sizzled, waiting to be set free. Storm had come out to play and wind eagerly raced from the cliffside to join in.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Fiction
