I heft the axe. Lighter now, and warm in my palms. My old bones creak, I lift it over my head. I stare at the groove in the ground, beaten into the land. Many a storm been broke here. Too many, maybe… A story of blues music, weather magic, and old hurts.
Published in Ideomancer
A slipstream story about relationships and collectibles, set in Laramie, Wyoming. Benjamin Johnson had a thing for spoons. Not just any old spoon, like the kind you keep in your house by the dozen, but the collectable kind, with fancy lettering and interesting shapes. He especially liked the kind with holes in the bowl that […]