One boulder at a time.

One chapter at a time. Less than that. A quarter chapter, and the boulder rolls backwards, smashing my toes, grinding against my shoulders.  The grit on its surface irritates my face. The damned thing lodges on things I cannot see, and all I can do is push.              I am in the final third of Sherlock Holmes, The… Continue Reading →

“A Forgotten Lane of Memory.”

M.J. Downing. That guy in the picture? That’s supposed to be me. I guess it was. It doesn’t seem like the face I see in the mirror anymore. Oh, the resemblance is there, but consciousness had yet to dawn on that face, and I was about to embark on my journey into the adult world… Continue Reading →

Where Are We?

This picture above was taken while I was watching my first live cricket match in a park in Edinburgh. It’s a look of pure confusion, I know. It’s also a look I have on my face frequently these days, in what passes for the tale end of the Covid-19 quarantines. With talk of opening up… Continue Reading →

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About the author

M.J. Downing is a native of Louisville, Kentucky.  Born in Shively in the spring of 1954, he was raised in Okolona. He lived in the Highlands for twenty years before marrying his wife, Amy, and moving to Valley Station.  He has friends and relations in all parts of Louisville, beyond those just mentioned.  He and Amy are members of St. Paul United Methodist Church and are active in its ministries.

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