K. Hutson Price
Wish me monsters
There are others
Some of my favorite people linked by my favorite story.
An open door is an open invitation
Beheaded gladiolus littered the ground. The gnarled stick raised on high, I celebrated my victory with whoops and whirls.
It was a curse, the kind no one believes in any more. The kind frazzled adults wish on unruly children who trample flowerbeds on a summer Sunday afternoon.
The woman, her fresh-from church-face melting in the Texas heat, looked into my eyes. I froze despite the heat. Caught in that backyard garden that I'd sworn never to enter again - and she cursed me.
She wished me monsters.
No gladiolus were harmed in the making of this website.