southern lit

Broken Like Stone

The rock fell. That was all Cookie Whittington knew. It fell from a bridge to the silver Buick below. The Buick that held her…

Up On Piney Mountain

Allie Walker pushed aside two trashcans that held chicken feed, scooted past the riding lawn mower and grabbed her ex-husband’s handsaw. The shed was…

Spring Garden

My cobbely plot of gray soil, hand-turned with a pronged fork last October waits for the earth’s March tilt to bring the year’s first…

Somewhere the Rainbow

The newness of this season Is refreshing – delicious. Its change is invigorating Prodding us to escape From the crystal latticework Of wintry confinement;…