I’ve had this idea for a little while that it would be fun to recount stories my dad told me about his childhood. He lived a pretty reckless young adult life, and now his stories are always a favorite at family gatherings.
Yesterday, I finally sat down and wrote a fictionalized version of a story he told me about beating up a car that turned out to be a collector’s item. The story turned out pretty good, I think. My dad’s childhood is a virtually bottomless resource of creative inspiration, so I think I might write more stories like this one.
Here’s an excerpt:
Mike didn’t think twice. He lifted the bat and swung like a pro right at the shining windshield. Cracks rippled across the glass, but it didn’t shatter. He lifted the bat again, this time over his head, and brought it down hard on the weakened windshield. This time it gave, and the glass rained into the car with a beautiful tinkling sound.
Randy laughed. “All right. Give it to me. My turn.”
Read the full story on Medium.
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