Everything comes to the river at some stage.
By Any Other Name, by Richard Spilman
My love is like a red, red begonia. Doesn’t work.
Anniversary, by Richard Spilman
Our love . . . an age freckled map.
Tornado, by Richard Spilman
You could almost hear music.
ICE STORM, by Richard Spilman
Trees like old men, bent with the burden of their bones.
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.
Establishing Witness, con’t. Joan Spilman
When nothing happened, Vernie began to fear the worst. Anjean had been murdered and no one had identified her body. She’d been sent to the medical school in Morgantown; the Adult Service Work having checked the box, “anatomical gift”.
Establishing Witness, by Joan Spilman
Vernie hadn’t looked in the coffin because she’d got a good look at him when he was born.
“Silver Bottle” now available on Amazon! — Cafe Legacy
Good afternoon everyone! I’d like to introduce the short story novel Silver Bottle by author Joan Spilman. Joan is a writer of literary women’s and Appalachian fiction.… Read more ““Silver Bottle” now available on Amazon! — Cafe Legacy”
My friend, Pat Chapman
Every morning since I can remember, I wake up to two things: light and pain. Sometimes, the pain makes me cry.
