Kerry Fores. Writer. Photographer. Person of Interest
World Headquarters of Kerry Fores: Writer. Photographer. Person of Interest.
“To fly, the Wright Brothers had to conquer the forces of lift, drag, thrust, and gravity. A fifth and far greater deterrent to flight had not yet been invented; the Internet talk group.”
~Kerry Fores
A version of this article appeared in the November 2017 issue of KITPLANES magazine.
Read More"There is a universal language to be sure, math and one of its sublime dialects...music. Your story hits on both. Bravo." ~James Hamman DDS
"Sweet memory. I have some of the same. Beautifully written, as always." ~Martha
As with the smallpox virus, I believed the last remaining copy of “Islands In The Stream” had been sequestered. I believed debates were ongoing for its incineration, so nothing would remain of it but horrific stories of personal suffering, and painful memories of tragic dates. I believed wrong.
Read More"...in order for a little baby seed (soul) to grow, it would have to pass through fire, flood, or....shit." From Ghost Rider: Travels On The Healing Road by Neil Peart.
Read MoreWhat caused the decline and abandonment of this farm? Why would a person – perhaps an entire family – leave all of this to nature and the curious camera of a motorcyclist exploring back roads?
Read MoreThinking of Hobbes, an inanimate object, as a companion is silly…or is it? Was Hobbes, the tiger in Calvin and Hobbes for whom "my" Hobbes is named, real? To everyone but Calvin he was a stuffed animal. But Calvin saw him differently. Calvin had a relationship him. He was a friend, a muse, a partner in crime. He was integral to Calvin's life.
Read More"...written so beautifully, like a quiet and personal evening at Meditation Garden.... I so want my friends to read this." ~Alicia Nowak
Maybe your purpose was to shred our transistor radio speakers, sneer on our black and white TV screens with over-saturated movements, change everything, inspire everyone, and then beat a hasty exit the same way you dashed off stage after each performance on The Ed Sullivan Show.
Read MoreMinutes passed. I don't know how many. Many. Our small bags grew heavy. Our grip on them grew weak. Our knees trembled from equal parts fear, cold and fatigue. Our shoulders sagged. What was this game? How long would it go on? What am I doing here? Can I just proclaim this a terrible mistake – a stupid decision – and go home?
Read MoreTo give my impromptu flight a light-hearted spin I joke that I woke up in desperate need of a shot glass with a ceramic jackalope glued to its bottom and flew six hundred seventy-eight miles to Wall Drug, in South Dakota, to buy one.
Read MoreOn tarmac bathed in humid red
My silver mount and goggles shed
I stand beneath the sky just flown
Beside the plane that brought me home
He asked my name again, in a more polite manner, and I told him it was Danger. Anger again flashed in his eyes...
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