The Wisdom of Ages is a short story collection featuring three stories about four men who face the challenges of aging head on. It is currently available in Paperback and as an e-book at Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** Kobo ** iTunes ** Page Foundry ** Scribd
BLURB
Three stories; four men whose lives take unexpected turns. Meet Samson who wonders what is down that country road that draws people so. Should he get in that old truck and go see? Mel and Rube have been having dinner at the Leavenworth Grill every Wednesday for years. One day the menu changes and so does life for Mel. Tom would give anything for his life to change. Can he beat back the effects of a crippling stroke by sheer force of determination?
Growing old is not for the faint of heart.
REVIEWS
“These three gems will make you think about time and how you use it. Maryann Miller has a rare gift for taking the pulse of ordinary lives and spinning that into extraordinary tales.” — Craig Lancaster, author of 600 Hours of Edward, The Summer Son and Edward Adrift
“Miller shares her skills as a writer and her humanity in this inspiring glimpse into the realities of aging and the heartbreak of letting go.” — Paula Stallings Yost Editor/Author, What Wildness is This: Women Write About the Southwest
“Sometimes the best stories come at the end of our lives, and so do the strongest lessons. Read Maryann Miller’s poignant vignettes about aging and let them tug at your heart-strings. They capture the very essence of our tender humanity.” — Dani Greer, author, editor and Special Projects Coordinator for Little Pickle Press
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Excerpt From Maybe Someday – the first story in the collection
Samson sat in the meager shade of the small Mimosa tree that graced his front yard, watching the traffic on old highway 79. Granted, there wasn’t much, but every now and then a shiny new car passed, heading toward the resort Samson knew was somewhere down the road. Or a car full of teenagers would zoom by, the boys laughing and tossing their empties out the window. And as many afternoons as he’d spent out here, it never failed to surprise Samson how much things had changed. On a good day he could count up to a hundred cars going by. Times used to be when one donkey cart coming down the road was cause for celebration.
Those had been the good years. The years Samson had worked for Mr. Watson until he’d given Samson this little piece of land for his own. Some folks thought Watson had lost his mind, giving away his land like that, especially to a black man. But Watson had never treated Samson like most white folks did, the “good ol’ boy” routine that never quite covered the slight hesitation as white flesh met black in a handshake. Watson never hesitated as a man or a friend, and the memory creased Samson’s weathered face in a smile.
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