Going out to see the Great Hale-Bopp Comet in Sam’s old jeep, out past the trailer park on Highway 6. We cut in on one of those gravel roads that punctuate each square mile from here to Saint Louis—pulling over and turning off the lights. The fields are black, but the sky is indigo and […]
Fiction
MOORING STONES by Paula Carter
The fields wave like the ocean when the corn is up and the storm on the weather radio is just taking shape. The sky turns yellow-gray and the wind comes from the east and the fields wave like the ocean. During these storms Traver comes into the house and sits at the round kitchen table […]
