jxmartin

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I have 809 stories published in one collection on the site.
My stories have been read 918472 times and 194 of my stories have been cherry picked.
24 of my 545 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 24 votes

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Joseph Xavier Martin

My stories

Hand Me Downs

"Hand me Downs" In the Martin household in South Buffalo, New York we used to say that "The first one up was the best dressed." It was a sardonic reference to the fact that amidst twelve children, there was often a communal use of many items of clothing. The child who arose earliest in the morning would have first access to the fresh laundry. And if he/she was swift enough in their ablutions and made off into the day with some degree of celerity, he/she had a pretty free reign over what items they could choose to wear that day.

Umbrella Coffee

Umbrella Coffee In recent years, we have become accustomed to the enormous variety of consumer goods available to us. From footwear to computers, there is a seemingly endless array of styles and prices to fit any possible choice.

BEGINNINGS

B E G I N I N G S I was born on the Fourth of March, a time of year in Buffalo, N.Y. when Winter still locks the area in its icy grip. Spring always seemed a long time in coming. At that time, my family lived at 207 Amber St., in a two-story frame dwelling, on the South side of the City. We lived in the shadow of giant steel plants like Bethlehem and Republic. The air smelled like sulfur and anything left outside would soon be covered by a fine layer of soot and metal flakes. No one noticed. It wasn't until many years later, when I first brought my future wife home for Thanksgiving dinner, that I became aware that there even was an odor. Mary is from Rochester and noticed the aroma as we neared the homestead. I guess we just learned to live with it.

SUBTITLES

Do Subtitles Really Say Something ? In the early days of the American film industry, before talkies came on the scene, a running string of subtitles would explain, in brief phrases, the action occurring on the film. The correlation between the action pictured and the content of the subtitles offered was sometimes open to question.

Mail Boxes

MAILBOXES When I was younger, I used to imagine that the mail boxes, on our city street corners, were magic portals. They stand there ever so quietly, with uncomplaining patience. They have the serenity of the inanimate. Many of our neighbors daily fed letters into the swing hinged openings, of these round shouldered blue mailboxes. They assumed that carriers would come and pick up their letters and deliver them to the main Post Office. Then, other clerks would send the missives on to their final destinations. I always thought differently.

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