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Barb Dukeman
Bio
An English teacher by trade, I’ve spent 32+ years in the classroom, instilling a love of literature (and a tolerance of writing) in my students. I started reading at the age of three and started writing at 13 with a poem about green socks.
Stories (122/0)
Trains, Cornfields, Animals, and Barns
One of the marketable traits of Florida is the excessive warmth with which we live all year round. Apparently, it gets mighty cold in other states. Time for a summer road trip! The farther north we traveled, the stranger the signs became. As we passed through north Florida, we saw signs warning us that the road may become icy during winter. I sure hope it doesn’t get icy in the summer. In South Carolina, the signs said, “Bridge Freezes Before Road.” Vaguely threatening. Farther to the north, the signs warned of more frigid pavement. I’m surprised we didn’t come across signs that said, “Danger-Road Still Frozen from Last Year.”
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Families
Hard Lesson to Learn
Beth signed sat in front of her laptop which illuminated her face and cast an eerie shadow on the wall behind her. Her friends had been encouraging her to join an online dating site so she could finally find a decent person to date. She had a string of losers since she left college and thought she had nothing to lose. Her father, a local sheriff’s deputy, always warned her about those sites being dangerous.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Criminal
EULOGY for BARB DUKEMAN in the EVENT SHE DIES FROM COVID BECAUSE SHE WAS FORCED TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL July 11, 2020
You might as well get comfortable because she wrote her own Eulogy. SHE. WAS. AN. ENGLISH. TEACHER. That means you’re getting her last lesson, and those typically ran 45 minutes. Listen carefully because there will be a quiz at the end. She starts off with a super silly ditty she remembered as the first poem she ever memorized:
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Journal
The Special Light
Terry’s favorite was always macaroni and cheese, but only the Kraft Deluxe brand with the dinosaur shapes. He could eat that golden goodness three times a day. His parents, however, felt he needed more balanced nutrition. For most other children, the introduction of new foods is slow but usually successful. Eva and Greg tried everything they could to entice him to try a carrot, but he just gave it to his brother.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Fiction
The Anniversary Waltz. Top Story - July 2021.
The morning haze of June 10, 1994, was particularly tiring for Shelley. Two months of pregnancy have started taking its toll, from the dreaded morning sickness to the backache that no Advil could kill. Bumming around the house, a restless Shelley figured today was just going to be another typical hot summer day. Mark, who started work earlier in the day, came home early, catching her off guard.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Families
Suspenders for Sale
Grandpap used to think that suspenders were the bee’s knees. We never did understand how the joints of an insect were the equivalent of something so special, but Grandpap knew that holding up one’s pants was a sacred duty. No one saw him without a pair; I think he used to wear them when he went swimming in the lake as well. He had a different color for every outfit he owned, and then a few more. They were leather, cotton, polyester, and a few other materials that I haven’t figured out. Overall, they were the most important part of his appearance.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Families
Don't Jump to Conclusions
Tessa examined her new apartment from the terrace out front. It was a forgettable, two-story building erected in the 1950s. Once she turned 18, her parents said, out you go. She brought up box after box to her tiny one-room apartment in Hamilton, away from the big cities of New York, away from her parents, away from the shallow dorks at her high school. It was all she could afford with her part-time jobs, and by the look of the building, she overpaid. The topmost floor of a brownstone had four windows that faced the outside, and other than the transom window at the top of the door, very little light came in.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Fiction
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