Sep 17, 2022 | Fiction |
Granny C always looked a little sad. And why not? Wheat was her son. Charlene hated the woman nearly as much as she hated Wheat, but never showed it; she was an old woman, and in the South you respect your elders. Her four grandchildren, three years to ten, looked...
Jan 16, 2021 | Fiction |
“I’ve just been out riding my bicycle,” Malcolm said. “What bicycle?” “Frances bought me one for Christmas.” “That’s sad. Where are you?” “Next to the canal. Want to know what I’m looking at?” “Not really. All right.” “Right in front of me there’s a boatload of...
Aug 7, 2012 | Fiction |
I asked her if she worried about losing her job, if she was caught on film. I put my knuckle to my lips. “Not really,” she said. “There are lots of jobs. There are so many things to do. Too damned many, really. It might be time to move anyway. This...
