The third year of drought left Birdie motherless and mute. For months she’d listened as her parents argued over water, whether small reserves should go to mama’s flower business or the horses. In the end, as hard as it would… Continue Reading
Russell Briggs drove long haul, only one time he ever told me about it though. Drove a big rig three years, until he come down a pass in West Virginia thank god no other cars on the road and out… Continue Reading
Thunder rumbled again from the southwest. The broad, two story house with its warm porch light might welcome him. But if a runaway had knocked on his front door long after midnight, his dad would greet the unlucky boy with… Continue Reading
It’s a Sunday morning and I’m in the kitchen stirring up pancake batter, watching little brown ants march along the wall under the windowsill. I’m thinking about herding the ants onto a piece of paper, mixing them into the batter… Continue Reading