Madrid Iowa Orchard Owners Stand Against a Counterfeit Prophecy for Two Thousand Twenty Six

his face lit up with that loud, performative friendliness that always made me feel like I was being handled by a salesman.

“Clara, my dear,” Arthur boomed, stepping forward with his arms wide as if to embrace me. “I was just thinking about Thomas. We miss his voice at the town meetings.”

“He spoke when he had something to say, Arthur,” I said, sitting continue reading …