Tag Archives: William L. Alton

Rain and a miserable wind make the day dark and wet and sad. She brings burgers home for dinner. We eat in the kitchen with paper plates. What have you done today? she asks. I bow my head. Nothing, I … Continue reading →

Pills make sleep come early and absolute. Night buries the house in darkness. She lies in her bed and thinks long, wandering thoughts. Her neighbors move through the dim light in the courtyard, talking about work. She listens for a … Continue reading →

A wind sings in the barn. A goat, old and worn, nibbles the grass out front with a few chickens browsing for bugs. She walks through the big doors in front and up to the hayloft with its dust and … Continue reading →

The light is leaving the sky. The stars are burning in their tracks and the moon is a sliver rising up and up and up. We sit together on the patio smoking cigarettes, drinking bourbon and water from short glasses. … Continue reading →