Liquor! The devil’s drink in our house. And worst of all, if Grandma had found Mother’s liquor, she’d found my bottle as well. Her liquor. My Ovaltine! I was undone, but Mother wasn’t.
Tag: fiction
This Textured Darkness, #93
Jessum was assigned to the stables, where he cleaned stalls and shoveled muck.
Silver Bottle, Episode 4
Imagine a hot summer morning. Imagine the motions of a small mountain town.
This Textured Darkness, #92
“I was chosen by Euli of Barnes, the blind seer, highly regarded for his wisdom and insight. Perhaps you have heard of him.”
Silver Bottle, a novel. Episode 3
Grandma Lizzie told me she didn’t suspect she was pregnant until she was almost four months gone and the shock spun her catawampus.
This Textured Darkness, #91
“Were you judged by a witch doctor wearing antlers and smeared with dung?” Elymas pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and coughed.
Silver Bottle con’t.
Silver Bottle, a novel by Joan Spilman
This Textured Darkness, #90
The Red Robe who’d introduced himself as Strout prodded them forward, and they’d stumbled down the aisle. Hesitant steps, clumsy. The double oaken doors shut with a… Read more “This Textured Darkness, #90”
This Textured Darkness, # 89
The Nawabs had floated around the city, finally settling in a portion called The Bottom. But for a barn-like structure where plague victims went to die, the Bottom was comprised of shanties.
This Textured Darkness, #88
Jessum uncorked the second jug before leaning out the window.
