The Breaking Point

A landman’s tale

Kola Barge by Author

What is wounding? he always asked, pointing at his chest, no, thumping, with eyes quite dry. The desert didn’t bat a rodent wing either, and the cactus spines tilted, praying “Lord, support the lean side of the thirst house low as ditches.”

Cans of water hung the mid-beams, as the parched light castled through. Oldish creaking scared some lizards, like a library of empty…

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If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.

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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.

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