a place for zinesters - writers and readers
To do something for over thirty years and not make a red cent off of it seems like a waste of time in America, but the friends I've made along the way have paid me more than money can buy!
THIS is why I write zines:
Waiting at the curb in a torrential downpour I hoped that the bus would be on time, or at least fairly empty. It was neither. Soaked to the bone by the time I boarded I was stuck clinging to a handrail at the back until a seat opened up. It was the night of the presidential election, an event that fueled conversation among the strangers on the bus.
"It just scares me to death," said a middle-aged woman. "Obama's gonna win. You know why? Because there are witches in this country and they're all casting spells to get people to vote for him. There's so much evil in the world today. I tell you, these are the end times."
"Mmm hmm," agreed a man sitting across the aisle from her.
She continued. "I teach up at the college and there is a woman who works there who actually admits to being a witch, a white witch. Can you believe that?"
"Yes, she's teaching teenagers depravity like that when they should be learning about the Lord before it's too late!" She looked out the window and quickly pulled the cord to stop the bus. "Oops, I was so upset about the witchcraft that I almost missed my stop!"
"God bless you!" said the man as she left the bus.
"God bless you too!" she replied.
Meanwhile I prepared to take her seat, but as I was sitting down I noticed that she'd left a little gift – a Jack Chick religious tract!!
Shelter from the rain, hilarious drama, free comedic reading material, and an empty seat all coming to me within the span of one minute? I don't know about her, but I sat there thinking that the world may not be such a bad place after all.