Jerome Norris: Stories

This is a condensed life story, in verse, of a native Texan who gets around a bit.

They call 'em Palmetto Bugs, but what they really are is Godawful giant roaches. Everybody hates 'em, but my big brother hates 'em more than anybody!

Four a.m., awake in my bed, waiting for the familiar call over the bedside monitor. It would come soon, as it did every night.

For a working couple, Day Care is a necessity and a lifesaver. But sometimes just getting there can be a trial.

Paul could always tell when he was dreaming. This one was pretty weird, but he'd go along for the ride.

In the 1960s, FBI agents sometimes were called upon to help enforce the nation's civil rights laws. This was often thankless and unglamorous work, and wasn't generally as popular with the agents as -- say -- investigating bank robberies.

We knew it was hostile territory, but it was seven hours since breakfast and we were hungry. Besides, the law was on our side, right?

My stepfather and my Uncle Oscar had an interesting story they shared -- but there was something fishy about it.

Imagine you're a helpless rubber duck lost in the Pacific. A long journey is about to begin.

You're cold and alone driving through rural Alabama. There's a howling wind that feels more like Minnesota. And that guy in the big Dodge pickup is watching every move you make.