Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

in the north pasture, but I didn’t come out here to admire the weeds.”

“We appreciate you driving down from Macon on a Saturday, Harold,” David said, adjusting the brim of his blue baseball cap.

Before Harold could answer, the gravel behind us crunched under a pair of heavy leather loafers. Arthur was coming down the office steps, his gold watch catching continue reading …