- Preheat your heart to 37 degrees C.
Open your eyes and ears.
Don’t make selections based merely on appearance.
Mix, knead and prove. It may take years.
If friendship does not rise, mix in more dough or start again.
May require variations depending on ingredients.
Joey believes there is at least one recipe for everything but many are not easy, especially if it’s important. But at least getting to his website, joeytoey.com, isn’t hard.
Anne held up the t-shirt. The stain still hadn’t come off. As she hung it, she heard footsteps.
Anne sighed before turning around.
He was wearing the same t-shirt, clean but somewhat creased.
“I’m… sorry,” he muttered.
“Having a time machine doesn’t fix everything,” said Anne. “Try going further back.”
Joey generally doesn’t like stories which feature time travel but he’s not going to go back and undo the few times he has made exceptions.
Kinny stormed inside. He threw aside the briefcase, turned on the TV – “…was acquitted on all counts…” – and strode into his study.
He admired his model city.
But it was time for some development.
He widened highways and crushed the courthouse.
“…news just in of the sudden implosion of downtown’s…”
Joey thinks some people should play with models instead of screwing up the real world.
The child always held It.
It had big eyes, long teeth, and a tail. To most, It was a monster.
But It was soft. And It never ran away, keeping her warm through cold nights.
As she grew, the nights became colder, longer. And she held It to the end.
Joey doesn’t collect plushies although he doesn’t mind them either, as long as it’s not a bear. Because bear plushies are lame. See more at joeytoey.com.
She’s usually back by sunset. Then I nuzzle her hair and she sighs.
She fills my bowl. As I eat, I contemplate the smells of people and things she encountered during the day. Sometimes she talks about them.
Tonight she’s late, sobbing, smells different too… She’s left her heart behind.
Joey currently does not have a dog or a cat. See more at joeytoey.com.
The stars twinkle. I remember when you pointed at the one you wanted to go.
My tablet beeps. A message from “somewhere in Virgo,” you say. Sent fifteen years ago.
I wonder if I should I bother replying. It’ll take longer than fifteen years to…
Clutching the tablet, I type.
Joey doesn’t even have a tablet but he can be messaged at joeytoey.com.
Jack shifts his weight off his walking stick.
An 8.5-inch blade gleams. So this is the respect a pensioner gets.
He squints at the young man with the knife. Punk.
Jack raises his walking stick. “I was a weapons engineer for fifty years. And this is Wally, my homemade 12-gauge.”
Joey doesn’t have a walking stick and if he ever does get one, he probably won’t call it Wally. He can be found at joeytoey.com.
His muscles ached. His bones, too. Years of building railroads did that.
“Got something lined up?” asked the officer.
He merely nodded. The word “innocent” mattered less now.
Minutes later, he got out of his truck where rails gleamed in the sun. A man waved. “So, you’re our new foreman?”
Joey doesn’t like being railroaded, even if it’s nothing to do with jail. He can be found at joeytoey.com.
Jack stretched. The flight was long but worth it. This was a new beginning.
Immigration took a long look but there were no problems.
Jack strode away, a bounce in his step. But something was missing…
“…report to unclaimed baggage…”
Jack sighed. And he’d been hoping to leave that behind.
Joey doesn’t trust anyone who acts like they don’t have any baggage. He can be found at joeytoey.com.
Amy dragged her feet and luggage. The 22-hour flight was a killer. She needed food. Bad.
Bright, colorful photos lined the overhead menu.
“How much damage for Burger Meal #4?” asked Amy.
Behind the counter, the skull in a black, hooded cloak grinned. “Four years.”
Amy sighed. “Upsize it, please.”
Joey always upsizes it. He can found at joeytoey.com.