by Do South | Jun 1, 2015 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] I can see Ira from our bedroom window. He is out in the corn patch a few yards away, and it’s past midnight. He gets off work at the feed mill at ten, and it takes him twenty-five minutes to drive to...
by Do South | May 1, 2015 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] The rock fell. That was all Cookie Whittington knew. It fell from a bridge to the silver Buick below. The Buick that held her Vernon. He was coming to get her. She had called. Distraught. Over the new...
by Do South | Apr 1, 2015 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] In the summer of my twenty-second year, just as the corn and tomatoes were coming to life, a man found his way to me. He was driving a gold and brown Ford LTD. He was wearing polyester pants the color of...
by Do South | Apr 1, 2015 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”words: Michael Crowden”][/title] “Here’s your hard hat.” The way he said it seemed to imply that I was now bona fide, as though being issued this symbol of the working man conveyed a heightened status. This was a mighty fine hard hat. It...
by Do South | Mar 1, 2015 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Allie Walker pushed aside two trashcans that held chicken feed, scooted past the riding lawn mower and grabbed her ex-husband’s handsaw. The shed was dark, even when the sun was out, surrounded as it...
