Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

had already taken his samples back to the county seat the day before. I stood up, my knees cracking like dry twigs under my denim skirt, and walked to the screen window to see who was arriving.

A black sedan was sitting near the pump house, its engine idling with a low, wet rattle that sounded like a loose exhaust pipe.

“Is that the lawyer?” David asked,continue reading …