Welcome to my woodfire,this virtual hearth, with the magic humming and the tea brewing and the books spilling over. That music in the background, that's my Honey playing his guitar, or it could be Addie Bell, my little mountain dulcimer or the rain on a tin roof, or the windriver singing way up high. Here in the hills, there's music everywhere you give a listen. So, sit a spell and lets listen together.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Small Stones -- December 29
In the poverty store, pennies bloomed among the weary map lines in an old woman's hand.
ty Barb. This is the Dollar General with their boxes of stale cereal and slave-made faux this and thats. And the woman -- beautiful but didn't know it -- probably never knew it -- her whole demeanor sagged. Yet she managed a smile for the tired cashier.
2 comments:
Wow - all I can say. A whole story in that one line.
Very good. Keep it up.
Barb
ty Barb. This is the Dollar General with their boxes of stale cereal and slave-made faux this and thats. And the woman -- beautiful but didn't know it -- probably never knew it -- her whole demeanor sagged. Yet she managed a smile for the tired cashier.
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