The old homestead needed more than a touch of TLC. It needed to be demolished and the ground razed and the black stumps chopped up and buried. Summer. Sandy hated summer. The heat, the flies, the extra feed for the animals. More water sucked from the stinky bore. She couldn't drink that water, she couldn't … Continue reading Summer is Coming …
short story
The Old Bones
The storm came that night, that's how I remember it. Lightning and thunder scare the grumpkins outta the dog, and she patters around, panting and whining and fretting. I gotta get up, do stuff, turn the kettle on, make noise. Otherwise, she freaks out all night and nobody sleeps. the storm comes The storm? Oh, … Continue reading The Old Bones
List-ing
Clothes. Protection. Hat. That’s what she needed. And shoes, comfortable and strong hiking shoes that would get her across the desert without killing every nerve in her legs and back. What else did she need? It would take a list, of course, but she had plenty of time, plenty of time indeed. It was a … Continue reading List-ing
I See, You See, Not the Same
https://helenevaillant.com/2019/02/26/10678/ A journey's end is nigh, but ever beyond the reach of mere life. "I come, Pythonissa," Barosa called, "lay out the bridge for me." Picture Challenge 26/02/2019 by helenevaillant.com If the bridge did not draw for him, he'd wait. The Moon Mother watched for Pythonissa. He would be easy to see if they but … Continue reading I See, You See, Not the Same
