Cracked mirror

Engine

You wake up lying on the floor. You’re on your side. Blurred faces gather around you. “He has a hammer!” a woman yelled. There’s a sharp pain in your thigh. You lean back, shoulders stiff. You slide the tool from your body. A moment ago, you were in the hardware store. Before that, you were…

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Raleigh NC

5. The Things We Miss

Continued from last week’s installment of Digging in the Dirt. Sheriff Daniel Coyle huffed up the long, gradual hill a few acres from where he’d parked his gray Ford Crown Victoria by the storage barn at the small, family-run pig farm. Moist winds blew the mixed scents of fertilizer and grass around the field. Once…

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4. Mud Pies

Continued from last week’s installment of Digging in the Dirt. The sun was slipping behind distant treed mountains at the furthest viewable point of Route 118. “Entering Dirt City, PA. Pop. 329, Elev. 994 ft.” Louisa swerved, just missing the sign. She corrected immediately and continued at exactly 45 mph. It didn’t happen all the…

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3. Frogs

Continued from last week’s installment of Digging in the Dirt. Tabitha, a pale woman in her 30’s with blue-tinted black hair cut in a severe bob and–at 4pm–still in her pajamas, carried two mugs of coffee in one hand, a clipboard under her arm, and a stack of file folders in the other hand. She…

Rural junkyard. Based on https://secure.flickr.com/photos/orinrobertjohn/9169835891

2. Church

Continued from last week’s installment of Digging in the Dirt. A rust-colored 1973 Chevy Nova was flattened underneath a smaller blue 1977 Honda Civic. Russ awkwardly climbed over them to get to the spot. Just beyond a block building, in a muddy clearing backed by three trees, and surrounded by an evenly placed circle of…

Based on Creative Commons image https://secure.flickr.com/photos/gringer/85888773

1. Dinner Time

This is the first installment of Digging in the Dirt. Jim lifted a spoon to his mouth and took a taste from the pot. He paused and let the smells infuse his senses; he closed his eyes and meditated on the flavors. “Mediocre,” he thought. “Oh, well,” and yelled, “Dinner’s ready!” as he wiped the…

NoTrespassing

Safe

He was safe. No phones would ring, no thieves could break in, no internet hackers would steal his identity. Enclosed in his one-bedroom bungalow ten miles outside of Raleigh, Joe planned for everything. He could still get around if need be. His handicapped-modified car allowed him to visit people and go to stores. But otherwise,…

Ask Ceil – I Have an Opinion

Dear Ceil, Why do I have so many opinions, and why do I talk about them? I had no idea I cared. Signed, Soapboxing in Susquehanna Dear Soapboxing, There are several reasons why we might voice our opinions. Only a couple make any sense. 1. We need to hear ourselves talk.

Lunch

“Where are we going?” Dad asked again. “We’re meeting my friend, Kathy, for lunch.” She wasn’t my friend. “Oh, where’s that?” I pointed. “Right there.” “We’re having lunch?” “Yes.” “Who are we meeting?” “Kathy.” I pulled into a parking space. I didn’t cry.