Three Rights Make a Left

This week I was in South Texas and got to spend some time with my 85 year old, aunt. I grew up next door to her and my Uncle Jim, so for all practical purposes she was a second mother. We sat on her back porch and she read a story she had written. I asked her for permission to put it in my column and she said yes. The story is too long to include all of it, but here is an excerpt:

 

By Nell Freaser

The date was November 22nd. The rural community was winding down an annual thanksgiving festival and dance. The bell tower chimed. Each of the twelve beats lingered singularly in the gentle wind. Simply (a heart beat) a melody. Musicians collected instrument cases.