Post Fertility

Post Fertility

            New hole in the watering can. Gonna have to patch that up. Tomatuh plants looking kinda scraggly. Blasted wind been shifting up the dirt something fierce these days. Gonna have ta rig up a shelter – think I ‘member seein a sheet a corrugated iron back up the road, few miles. Head out t’morruh, see if I can’t find ‘nother watering can, maybe a tarp fer some shade.

Huh. Sun’s up. Mighty fierce t’day. Seems like it’s getting hotter, day by day. Wonder what that’s all about. Must be my ‘magination. How could the Sun be gettin’ hotter than it already is? It’s already 100, 110 most days. Can’t get much hotter, can it?

No clouds in tha sky. Guess we’re not gettin’ any rain agin t’day. Been weeks since it last rained proper. Jus’ ‘tween you and me, and I knows you ain’t gonna tell no one else, seein’ as you ain’t the talkative type, I’m not so sure we’re gonna see much rain around here anymore. I heard, fellah passin’ along the road, ain’t rained over in Louisiana fer a good six month. Now when’s the las’ time you heard it not rainin’ in Louisiana? Swamps dryin’ up, he said. All sorts a nasty beasts climbin’ up outta that dryin’ muck, lookin’ fer water jus’ like us.

I don’t like it, no I don’t. Dust storms we had last summer, well, you was here, you know how bad they got. No rain, be as bad agin this year. Bad.


Posted on December 1, 2014, in Mauve Prose, Short(er) Stories and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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