Tuesday night
Feb 6
Another trailerpark washed away. “Where I come from rain is a good thing” goes a country song on the radio because rain makes corn and corn makes whiskey and whiskey makes his baby feel a little bit frisky. Meanwhile the world grows outside in tangles and thickets, the prairie grass shoulder-high, the trees heavy with new leaves and ivy vining up over the walls of the farmhouse and honeysuckle in masses along the road. You smell it when the wind is right, sweet and verging on rot.
The above is an excerpt from my short novel Float Me Away, Floodwaters.