Summer Son

Jake leaned on the shovel and wiped the sweat of the west Texas summer from his brow. Red grit coated his clothing, crunched between his teeth.

The last bit of earth now in place, he removed his hat and knelt by the grave.

“There you go, Ma. I brought you home, just like I promised.”


Liz Powell.

  • Lorece

    But! … but where did he have to bring her from?
    And why?