MAYBE IN A TORNADO

From "Ruth in Winter"

Maybe in a Tornado

Ruth always wore just her robe out to the chicken coop no matter how cold it was. She would only be out for a minute, but this bitter morning the wind chilled her metal scoop even before she got to the garage, burning her hands. It had been a few weeks since the last big snow, and the ground was bare, barren. The grass had withered and dried to brown wisps, and the soil beneath it showed through like grey stone. She walked carefully, even when there was no ice on the ground. She still remembered falling one morning, almost fifteen years ago now. It was one of those winters when she was alone, the cold years of the separation. 

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Published in Every Day Fiction on February 25, 2017

HORSE DREAMS

The dreams were always the same. Ruth had forgotten the horses. They were there, in the pasture behind the machine shed (a pasture that didn't exist in real life). The horses were penned in and had eaten all the hay, had drunk all the water in the rusty trough, and she had forgotten all about them for weeks.

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published August 13, 2015 by Short Fiction Break

ENCOUNTER: CONVERGENCE AND REUNION

Encounter, Part 1: Convergence
2004

 “Boys?” she asked, as if I had planned it that way. “You had all boys?”

I nodded. This wasn’t going so well already.

We were sitting at the dining room table, a pot of tea between us. I looked out the window. The fog was still hovering over the house, though you could see past the grape arbor now. November had started out warm and soggy, but a cold front had come in, and where the fresh snow met the warm earth a thick fog rose up, shrouding everything. She followed my gaze to the yard, and her voice softened with the next question.
"Pete..." she began, "is he still...?" I hesitated. I had no idea how we got into this situation, sitting at my table together.
"Pete..." she began, "is he still...?"
I hesitated. I had no idea how we got into this situation, sitting at my table together....

continue reading on page 59 of the Winter 2015 Issue of Broad! A Gentleperson's Magazine.

These two stories are the "bookends" of my novel, Ruth Harris: Under the Prairie Moon, the first and final stories.