A Rain Of Birds

PS Wright has plagiarized another of Granny Which's tales. This time, a bit of a family tall tale has turned up in the wrong universe.

When a couple of youngsters wander along the river, they have an odd encounter and experience some most unusual weather. Lucky for Augustus Deforest, May has brought along her umbrella. The wily old catfish known as grey beard doesn't stand a chance. More
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About P. S. Wright

Hi folks. So you want to know more about the author?

I have long felt like an old curmudgeon trapped in a young person's life. Now that my chronological age has caught up with my mental age, life has become a lot more fun. I have a passion for fixing up my home; currently I am remodeling our nice little 1950s ranch house which is sorely in need of a little love and attention. My son and I love to visit amusement parks and plan to sample every one eventually. But as this is an expensive and time consuming hobby, I am forced to find other ways to entertain myself between trips. I enjoy touring by car and visiting the landmarks and historical sites wherever I go and am not above posing beside the world's largest frying pan or with my head in the holes of ye olde stockes. I have traveled to or through or even lived in twenty-eight states and four countries other than my native USA. I have yet to visit Europe and consider that a terrible failing on my part. I am a true American, mongrel through and through, one quarter German or maybe Dutch, one quarter Scotch Irish (we think), half Native American (but even that half is from two different People). I come from hill folk, hillbillies to you city slickers. But I escaped that fate and have been trying to recapture my heritage ever since. When my son and I are not out traveling, attending college, or working, we like to hang out with our neurotic but lovable dog, Jake and his sidekick Kat, the cat.

I have always been an obsessive reader. Somebody once compared readers who turn to writing to drug addicts who turn to dealing. Well, you have to support your habits somehow. As my mother would tell you, I often was late to school because I was reading the back of the cereal box. It is all Doctor Suess' fault. I once attempted to steal The Happy Birthday Bird from the St. Louis Library. My mother let me read it "one more time" before making me return it. So she is partly to blame not only for that little indulgence but the many hours of great story telling we begged off her as kids. Of late I have found writing to be an interesting way to kill time while in forced isolation in places like Camp Spyker, Iraq, Sharana, Afghanistan or Clovis, New Mexico. I mostly find time to write while away from home, but that may change now that I am staring down the barrel of retirement. Hope you enjoy reading my drivel; I am going to be prolific.

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