His smallness was exacerbated by the wide-brimmed straw hat that was crooked low over his face. At first, I thought it was black, but the sun beat down and I shielded my eyes and at once it was red. A deep ruby. So deep that it turned black once more. He clutched at his cane
On Saturdays, Opal Pratt went to the Piggly Wiggly in nearby Vicksburg, Mississippi to buy groceries. On Sunday mornings, she went to church and sat alone on the back row. On Mondays, she did her small batch of laundry
He’s in that little house. He’s been living in there alone for over forty years, since his wife died. What does he do in there?
“The Smallest House in the World!” Uncle Shamus used to announce as we slowed before the clearing in the pines along Route 27. “He’s in there
A flat tire forced Jenny to walk the four blocks down Kramer Street to The Continental. She’d driven by the diner a thousand times but never once thought to stop in; it didn't look like much from her passing view at forty miles per hour
When my father was eight years old, his father told him that fireflies were carrying off the soul of his mother piece by piece. They were on the front steps of their farmhouse looking over their wide, full fields of barley, sugar beets, and tulips
Doline looked out her main street cafe window as far to the left and to the right as she could; then she looked at her watch. “Forty-two minutes late,” she called back to the kitchen where Francis was stirring a huge pot of her famous okra chowder. The kind that is so full of in season vegetables
Every morning, Gary called his parents back in Albany. It was the least he could do. The phone rang several times, and then there was silence, followed by a loud clacking noise, piercing feedback, a dull thud, and finally, his mother’s voice.
“Hello? Who is it?”
When I was in the third grade, Lidia Pinkly took me inside her parents’ closet and told me a horrifying story about The Pigman—who feasted on human flesh—and she swore it was true. I could handle just about anything as long as it wasn’t true. But this
We showed each other pictures of our kids. The girl is my favorite, you said, I can’t help it. It’s true.
Before we were almost lovers we talked about where we were from. We found the six degrees that separated us
This is your plot. I’m sure you’ll like this one. It’s in the back corner next to the fence, but it’s accessible. I realize it’s farther than the other ones. It’s not right next to the highway. But don’t worry. Your family won’t have to walk to see you. This is America. We got drive-thrus. See? See the paved road that snakes its way up the hill? Your family (or friends, if you have them) can pull right up