We've had an amazingly beautiful fall. But now it's starting to get that cold and clear feeling. Not snow this week, but what might be called "high fall." So I pour a bourbon, enjoy the wood stove. At this rate, I'll be immobile by February, hanging out with the dogs and whining when the fire dies and waiting for Bob to get back to work while I hibernate until spring.
imagination
She moved to the beach to start over. After years behind a desk, processing paperwork for deadbeats, she was looking to forward some quiet. Her monthly pension from the state, combined with social security and the money her father had left her provided enough income for the full cable package on television, her book of the month club, and necessities. She didn't subscribe to the newspaper any more; nothing in there but bad news. All her working life had been dealing with deadbeats, people making excuses for why they weren't working, why they didn't take care of their children, their bills, or themselves. The newspaper was just a reminder of that. The first slug appeared late in the evening. She'd just finished watching America's Got Talent and went to check the doors and windows before heading to bed for the night. When she turned on the porch light, she saw a huge shadow on the screen door. About 4 inches long, it had worked the front half of
Comments