“Get the ants!” he shouted. This was his payback. I was pulling double duty for being late. I’d collected the ants yesterday, too.
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, #39
The boy’s name was Jessum and it gave him deep joy to see Elymas unsettled.
This Textured Darkness #38
“My critical powers,” said the King, “though still intact, are limited by endurance. My councilor will read for me.”
This Textured Darkness, #37
‘Hand the parchment over,” said Ranald. “I’ve struggled with thoughts of my own death long enough.”
This Textured Darkness, #36
The King reached for the blue feather like a dying man reaches for hope.
The Facts of Life, part 2 (A Harshbarger Mills Story, 1960’s)
Mother shoved aside the Electrolux like a discarded dance partner.
The Facts of Life (A Harshbarger Mills Story,1963)
While my sister was forming in my mother’s belly my cousin, Deborah Anne,was dying in her mother’s arms. The two events were unconnected.
This Textured Darkness, 35
The eyes of the King see you, the ears of the King hear you, the words of the King, bless you.
Char Glimmer, conclusion (A Harshbarger Mills Story)
The dance had been magical, for everyone had a sweetheart.
This Textured Darkness, #34
Oren Hunter. Mothers used his name to frighten wayward children.
