Steven wove a small scourge from the branches of a weeping willow and whipped his little sister while she searched the sidewalk on all fours for enough cigarette butts to resurrect a whole. It was Sunday morning. It was cold outside. They were waiting for the big white bus to arrive and take them to the Presbyterian Church. Karly picked up three-quarters of a Camel Light and handed it to Steven. He let her stand.
Karly thought about her father, how his life caved in on him at the bottom of a coal mine near Cobble Creek, and how things were never this bad before their mother signed them up for Sunday school and stopped coming out of the bedroom. She sat in the center of the fourth row on a cedar pew beside Mr. and Mrs. Salt, drawing pictures of pine trees on the back of her church program while the blood from her knees coagulated.
In its third year, The March Micro Marathon will be, as usual, a prompt-a-day whirlwind for 24 days. You’ll exchange drafts of micro fiction, non-fiction, and prose poetry in small groups and gather for a series of online events (all recorded for participants unable to attend live). We’ll finish with 3 competitions, and participants who are not already in SmokeLong Fitness will be invited to workshop with SmokeLong Fitness until the end of April!