Author: Brad Willis

Still asking why

During the last Presidential administration, I used the word “why” a lot. Now that the guy I supported is in office, it would be pretty ridiculous of me to stop asking. So, when a...

In case of emergency

“You do not want to be the last one in here,” he said. A few seconds later, I was in the hallway with all my gear and a few hundred other people. If Mike...

The flour did not prepare me

I was 16 years old and carrying a five-pound bag of flour around the halls of Willard High School. Because the flour was wrapped in a baby blanket and wearing a diaper–and because I...

Drunk in London

It’s easy to booze it up on the road trips I take. The poker world is full of people who only know two things: poker and partying. As I get older, I have to...

Bye, London

The trip was exhausting. The hours were pretty long and the jet lag lag made it all longer. I’m still barely conscious, but I made it home last night. I might write more about...

The bank

There is no one in the bank but the tellers, the manager, and the disembodied voice of the drive-through customer in the first lane. The customer has neither a dog nor a child, so...

Finished fiction

I don’t like to leave things unfinished. It’s rare of me to start any project and not work tirelessly on it until it’s finished or dead. Earlier this year, I thought it would be...

On failure

Richard Summers could claim scarred black lab tables and an exceedingly bad combover. This was the Summers Experience, and it was not a good one. It was easy to sit in the back of...

Reset

People ask me what I do. They don’t get it. Who is this guy who shaves when he wants, complains of working at 4am, and finds time for a walk in the park at...