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

seats in the third row, just behind the wooden railing that separated the gallery from the council floor. Evelyn sat close to me, her shoulder pressing against mine as she adjusted the strap of her purse.

The wooden bench was hard and cold, smelling of linseed oil and lemon wax. It was the same bench I had sat on forty years ago when we petitioned the continue reading …