Here

I felt something in my gut uncoil, like a length of cold rope.

My mouth went dry, even as something in my brain told me not to make too much of it; he was just sniffing around the neighbor’s house or nibbling a treat disgorged from the septic tank or following the scent of a passing possum or any of a thousand things that could have drawn his attention away.

But I grabbed the flashlight and flew out the back door, down the driveway.

Deep into spring, and the trees still wore something between buds and leaves.  Otherwise, their naked limbs raked the sky.  Clouds mounted in the distance, roiled darkly, ready to spill over the hills on the horizon and into the little river valley where we lived.

It would rain tonight, heavy and hard.

At the end of the driveway, I stopped, took a breath, and raked the cornfield across the road with my meager light.  Blunted furrows piled up like waves on a black sea were all that greeted me.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)