In accordance with the clomping of the horses’ hooves, the farmer breathed, “Pigs . . pigs.”
Tag: fiction
This Textured Darkness, #3
“Let us hope the birds have enough privacy to breed!” roared the King.
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.”
This Textured Darkness, #2
The bird suddenly seemed negotiable.
This Textured Darkness, The Myth
Spirits beneath a star-strung sky
Carries a woman with tears in her eyes.
Big Pete, 1889-1929
“His death broke the cold snap.”
Frank Wallace, AKA “Stubby”
He was lucky the doctors had been able to save his arm. He was lucky to be alive.
