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

in the cold morning air, a hard intrusion on the quiet of the orchard.

I stood on the porch with my hands in my coat pockets, my fingers closed tight around the silver bee pendant. The bank transaction sheet was tucked inside the pocket of my wool vest, folded into a small, hard square against my ribs. It was the only proof I had that continue reading …