“Agnes, Woody Garrett is a married man.”
Agnes sat straight up. “But he said he loved me!”
Category: short story
That’s Not Love, part 3 (A Harshbarger Mills Story, 1944)
“Why do you think I brought you here?” he shouted.
“To propose?” Agnes stepped out from behind the bush, fully clothed but mostly unbuttoned.
That’s Not Love (A Harshbarger Mills story, 1944)
Agnes fell into his arms, and he’d taken off her clothes with an adeptness that was surprising for a country boy. Raw, green, fresh off the farm.
RISING, a short story by Joan Spilman
He reads something in my face I have no words for. “Okay,” Tim says. “You can have your divorce.”
Lumpy McFaye
“No, thanks. I’ve seen enough of human nature.”
Establishing Witness, conclusion
The preacher was a neat spare man in a yellow shirt and navy blue slacks. Had she not seen the maroon Bible pressed underneath his arm, she’d have mistaken him for a Vista Volunteer.
Lumpy McGhee, 1921-2007
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve seen enough of human nature.”
Rising, a short story by Joan Spilman
Grandma looks bewildered, like a child who’s been tricked. I’ve seen this look on her face before. In the hospital, mostly in the evening. The physical therapist told me not to worry. “It happens with stroke patients. We call it sundowning. They get confused. Expect her to have good days and bad. Expect her to cry and be moody. Don’t be alarmed at outbursts, accusations.” I’ve never feared for anything until now.
Long Distance, a short story by Joan Spilman
We were a couple. Nobody on the floor but us. This went on for, oh, I don’t know how long. He even begged me to go away with him.