Even now, she didn’t like to think about her first trip to the city. A barkeep had given her directions to the castle.
Author: joanspilman
Former teacher, writer of Appalachian Literature, short stories, and fantasy. Current publication, "This Will Never Stop" see Kirkus Reviews, Vol. LXXXXVII, NO. 22 Nov. 15, 2019. Also featured on booktrib, and Booklife. Has published a YA entitled "Sansablatt Head", and books for children under the general title of "The Waddling Dead". Received MFA from Wichita State University where she received the fellowship. Published in Southern Humanities Review, Short Story International, Carriage House Review,Willow Springs, Laurel Review and other literary magazines. Winner of George Garrett Prize for Best Prose, W.WashingtonU. Winner of Microkosmos Fiction Award, WSU. Winner of John Maier Award at Marshall University.
This Textured Darkness, #63
Her father had left her in the road, a bundle at her feet.
Conclusion of Susie and Nonna, (A Harshbarger Mills Story)
We’re closer than sisters.
Nature is trying to atone for the terrible mistake of planting Lucky in my mother’s womb.
“Susie, I’ll need your help at the flea market. I don’t know how to sell.”
This Textured Darkness, #62
“I hear the voices every spring,” Mirella insisted. “It leads me to the Spring Calling of Spirits.”
This Textured Darkness, #61
There was no disguising the dew on her feet or the altered expression in her eyes.
Susie and Nonna con’t (A Harshbarger Mills Story)
Other than Nonna, I haven’t seen a woman wear an apron in years. “It’s easy for you, Susie. You can talk to anybody. I’ve never talked to anybody much in my life.”
Nonna and Susie con’t (A Harshbarger Mills Story)
“It’s not old stuff,” I explain. “They call it Appalachian crafts. The woman who sold that awful quilt made three hundred dollars. You know what she told me? Her dog whelped on it.”
This Textured Darkness, #60
She yearned to reach out and touch him. It was an innocent wish for she was still a maid, but the need was real.
Susie and Nonna (a Harshbarger Mills Story)
I want to take Nonna to Mill’s Bottom, to a low, flat ground where people buy and sell everything, where money changes hands like water and hard cash is plucked down for junk.
This Textured Darkness, #59
She could now run up the twisted stairs as easily as a skilled musician played a harp.
