Tag Archives: short prose

Down the hill, from green to black

I got the ax out of the chicken coop to split the wood for the first autumn fire. Without ceremony, I hung the lawn chairs in the garage for the season and put away the hammock and lawn furniture. A … Continue reading

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Top down

On the first foggy morning of late September the daylight cut itself in half and the moon looked full as we drove home from our birthday celebration for Charlotte. We climbed the steps to bed, the three of us (Dawn … Continue reading

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Song to the dark lands

When I look through the trees at the park near our house they are all pretty much the same as when we started coming hereā€”like me, a bit older but still the same, mostly unnoticed. And the kids were so … Continue reading

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Reserving the giblets

I drank an ale and made the gravy. The gravy was to be made over several hours the book said. Outside it was gray and Dawn said look at that rain. It hadn’t been raining before, it just started, so … Continue reading

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Fallen, moss-covered tree in the aspect of a dog

There was nothing more of it left at the end, the day got sanded down to a pile of dust smaller than the shape it started. The dishwasher ran and the rain looked to stop for a minute, but only … Continue reading

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Rain prose: going to work, to live

We were between fronts again. In the morning the sound of the birds seesawing the air in their rocking chair, rhythmic arcs: those sing-song loops like fireworks for wartime, warning cries, maybe just bliss. The air was damp from last … Continue reading

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Ant prose, exterminator

Then the exterminator came and I liked him right away by the sound of his voice in the doorway talking to Ginger, crouching down, petting her, making some joke about the ants, but then he was all business: what have … Continue reading

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