Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama

Sit back, close your eyes, and let your mind drift to an small quiet farm town.
-Theresa Marie.


It was any typical Saturday afternoon, the sun was shining bright, a cool light breeze blowing; just strong enough to whip the hair of a dark brown eyed girl sitting underneath a secluded willow tree. The breeze blew by not caring that the girl had to grip the page of a intense sexual scene of her favorite thriller story.( Y'know the one where the kids are locked in an attic by their selfish nassarsict mother and god honoring fearing grandmother?) Not caring that the wind had lossen the sunflower barret she had place so carefully on the wisps of her hair, gradually letting the small of her ringlets fall so softly around her face. A face so soft and warm any person walking by would stop and stare. 

As this pretty young thing stares unaware of her surroundings, lost in words of fantasy, betrayal, hardhip and eventually true love. So unaware that the air around her stared to become static, the wind now picking up the pace.  A speed that could create a small cyclone of leaves and debri, which was now beginning to take form. From the distance a faint screaming could be heard as the wind shifted harshly, so harshly the brown eyed girl stop for a moment to gather up her soft colored green flare skirt, (The one where if you spin around in cirlces it goes higher higher.) grab the light cardigan sweater that had blown from her shoulders, watch her as she briskly makes her way up the now deserted sidewalks of a broken down small hardship towns. A town so covered in the black soot from the strong handsomely young men working deep in the mines of the mountains. A town so far gone from any highway you'd miss it from a well beaten road sign.


Still as she makes her way down the cracked, worn sidewalk, down to where the cement turns dirt, there's only so much side that can be made in a small town. When the houses are so far apart but close enough you know Sue Ann and Jim Bean just had their 9th little dumpling, the one your memaw helped deliver as you sat back with the warm water and your hand at the base of your throat in an awestruck state, close by.  The sky was beginning to turn not into an darkness where that giant golden sun starts to lower and the world lights up orange and gold, but a creeping bluegreen haze, wait thats not the sky the sky is black, black as the cat that sits at Old Mr. Whiskey Browns delivery store, (yes the one that sits there staring into your soul with those pale moon eyes, daring you to reach out and so softly touch his graying fur.) That bluegreen sea like haze is rising from the ground, rising as the mist rolls in on a early sunday crisp morning where the rooster starts to stir and the cow bells begin to heard for their morning feed.

The haze begins to quicken. The brown eyed girl, her heart begins to race. "Pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter pitter pitter pitter," faster as the souls of her tender but toughen bare feet start picking up into a fast pace.. what's happening, where is everyone? He mind taking off searching for her dear Memaw and her pa, where could her Pa of gone, it was dusk the men of the mines would be stumbling foward from the makeshift rusted elevator. So black and depleted of what little engery that got them this far. Oh dear where is her pa? Running now past the corn fields so high ready for their fall harvesting, past Mr.Cream's icecream malt shop. Her gaze straight ahead as the sea haze begins to close around her, engulfing her. The brown eyed girl her eyes lite up with fear, fear for her memaw, fear for her stories, her hands begin to clutch her throat.. can't breathe "Pa Pa where are you pa." Slowly falling, falling into a world of blue, no green, eyes so full of hope of love, lives she's only dreamed of fading. Fading deeper deeper into the haze. 


"Lilly-Ann Rose. Lilly-ann. Come on now Lilly-Ann." Her eyes begin to flutter lightly, "Lilly-Ann Rose, honey its time to go." That voice, that deep gritty sound.. The browned eye girl her eyes slowly opening, the slight fade of orange in the back glowing so peacefully. "Lilly-Ann Rose, come  on now the cows need a milking." That voice it can't be, Pa, Pa was lost, lost couldn't find, couldn't see, opening. Her eyes settle on the tall dark shadow standing  above her. His hands on his overall soot covered hips. "PA, oh Pa its you, your here I found you." Jumping to her feet, not remembering the battered down worn book that was still in her lap, falling down with a soft "plop" to the ground beneath the old willow tree. Her Pa shaking his head, "Lilly-Ann Rose asleep with a book in her nose."


The end
September 12th 2019