The preacher was a neat spare man in a yellow shirt and navy blue slacks. Had she not seen the maroon Bible pressed underneath his arm, she’d have mistaken him for a Vista Volunteer.
When nothing happened, Vernie began to fear the worst. Anjean had been murdered and no one had identified her body. She’d been sent to the medical school in Morgantown; the Adult Service Work having checked the box, “anatomical gift”.
“I loved Ray Welk from the time I was eight years old. When the love bug bit, I felt the sting to the tip of my toes. He didn’t feel anything, he was too busy.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve seen enough of human nature.”
Shame is a fire, burning my core.
Lizzie doesn’t have much, but she does have a high school education. After graduation, she walks home alone to find her step-father “moonshine blind,” half dressed and… Read more “Lizzie Speaks, excerpt from Silver Bottle”
“Times were different,” I say finally. “People minded their business then.”
Lorraine’s childhood is marred by the alcoholism of her mother. However, she does have a few happy memories, and the sound of popping soap bubbles is one… Read more “Excerpt from Silver Bottle, a memory from Lorraine.”
The woman in my mind just now? That was my mother. Resurrection driven, gliding in and out as easily as a paschal moon, hungry for a feast.
Grandma looks bewildered, like a child who’s been tricked. I’ve seen this look on her face before. In the hospital, mostly in the evening. The physical therapist told me not to worry. “It happens with stroke patients. We call it sundowning. They get confused. Expect her to have good days and bad. Expect her to cry and be moody. Don’t be alarmed at outbursts, accusations.” I’ve never feared for anything until now.