She once had a daughter.
She once had a son.
Category: domestic fiction
Establishing Witness, conclusion
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.
Establishing Witness, con’t. Joan Spilman
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”.
Ray Welk, 1911-1962
“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.
Blanche Shaw, at the Edge
Blanche draws me by her very diffidence. She stands apart, looking unhappy and confused.
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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.
Joan Spilman 