Old Daryl was a morbid sort. By the time he was sixty-five, he had his will all sorted, his bills finally all paid off, his porch rocker put where he could watch the sunset until he took part in it. When his buddies, the guys he’d grown up with, gone off to fight Hirohito with, … Continue reading A Prince
Whether that shovel leans against the shed or turns soil is irrelevant.
with scent of lilacs blooming in the yard, lingering winter kill fetor
In the greening pasture beige stalks of last year’s yellow sweet clover Posted in response to the Ragtag Community daily prompt verdant.
May knew that it was unlikely that she was seeing Mickey. He’d been dead these twenty years. But she was pushing her walker over the threshold between the bedroom and the living room, feeling the deep ache in her hands and knees, and there Mickey was standing on the porch peering in through the shadows … Continue reading The Invitation
“Hey, Ferry Boy,” Olly Collings said. He was fishing off the landing pier, and he muttered it with a sneer as Ricky passed him to gather the guests for the trip across the lake. “Ferry Boy’s gonna ferry a fairy today.” “Go to hell,” Ricky said. “Not me,” Nate said, “I ain’t ferryin’ fairies.” Ricky … Continue reading Ferrying Mr. Billingsw
A wintering of her mind churns the gone familiars of ninety-two years? Posted in response to the Ragtag Community Daily Prompt cyclone.
-Visit mom in hospital -Pick up my C-PAP Those sun lit mountain peaks—so far way
He was looking down at her mailbox, at the address there, nodding his head the way a person does who has found what he is looking for and now has no idea what he is going to do with it. At first Joanie thought he was just some tramp who had wandered a bit far … Continue reading Home is Where
Over the calving yard coursing the blue, cold air magpies watch, wait.