Lula at Forty

oklahoma-wildflower

Lula, at forty, was too old to be a whore, and too smart to be a madam. Scratching a living from the arid Oklahoma soil did not appeal to her.

She never did cotton to book learning. At least, not the kind of learning offered at the town’s one-room school house. It squatted at the edge of town like a carbuncle,  Continue reading “Lula at Forty”

A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part Two): Wild Schmitties & Arizon’

mars-at-night

There once was a settlement on Arizon’,  20 kliks from a ruined moonbase at the far edge of what the Space Cowboy Coalition called the 66th Quadrant. The planet to which Arizon’ had been attached is as long-gone and forgotten as its name. By all that’s natural and what we believe to be the laws of science, the tiny golden moon Arizon’ should have spun off and disappeared as well. But there she sits, spinning slowly, holding her place in the quadrant, wreathed in pearly-gray clouds.

A transformation is occurring…

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part Two): Wild Schmitties & Arizon’”

A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part One): Tale of the Wild Martian West

mars-at-night

Many, many years ago, when the red planet was untamed and sparsely populated–not like it is now, with its towering star scrapers and rumbling freewheelways—Schmitties roamed the plains, and the atmosphere was breathable.

A man could make a fine life for himself as a Schmittyboy. The pay wasn’t great, but the vistas couldn’t be beat.

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part One): Tale of the Wild Martian West”

Evening Patrol

moon

Her body flickers dark and light, sinewy through shadow and scarlet setting sun. Already, slender blades of grass collect dew, in lieu of abundant and nourishing daylight.  The snake’s rustling passage drops to cooler notes, notes soon to be silver and silent in the moonrise. Midsummer is long past, and her time to safely pass through the neighborhood and into her burrow is scant. Still, she pauses in her nightly patrol and lifts her diamond-shaped head, scenting vanilla and the rich tang of coffee from the small square of patio behind the one-story home. Continue reading “Evening Patrol”

A Tale of Two Tunnels

unhappy badger peering out of his tunnel entrance
Burt the badger

Burt the badger had problems. There they were, the two of them walking past his new home, the home he had scraped and dug and built over and over because somebody kept dumping dirt into the entrance.  It broke his tiny badger heart to see the Pam and her hubby together, laughing and pointing, knowing that he might never have his heart’s desire.

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Tunnels”

Miracles, Madness and Hjordis

Image of Bluebells of Scotland“Tell me again why this particular hill?” Grace glared at her grandmother Maeve.

“’Tis our best hope of marshaling all forces of Man and Nature,”retorted the old woman, her lavender cape, the only warm color for miles, whipping about her bony shoulders in the dry wind. “Plus, the light is better. Image is everything—well, nearly everything–for this plan.”

“You’re remarkably hip for an old crone,” she remarked, “But if you don’t slow down, Hjordis may drop her young one right here on the path.” Continue reading “Miracles, Madness and Hjordis”