by TNSF | Jun 17, 2020 | Stories, Vol. 3, Issue 15
I heard her before I saw her. A tink-tink sound like marbles knocking against each other. Noisy as it echoed off the thick fog. When the pub closed and there was nowhere to go but an empty cottage, I poured my rheumatic body bone by bone into the murky night. The...
by TNSF | May 20, 2020 | Stories, Vol. 3, Issue 13
A folktale for back porches and slow nights; a tale for my Granddaddy. Cressie’s mama gave birth to her on the pew of the church. She lay back, split herself open for her child, then handed Cressie Girl to Big Ma before she passed on. It was a good thing...
