Each day they return to make it deeper and wider. Brown-skinned men, naked to the waist, sweating in the heat, speaking Spanish. I watch them from my window and listen to their banter. They’ve been digging for a week, removing shovelfuls of earth. I don’t know what they hope to find. I’ve asked the neighbors, but no one seems to know. Perhaps something will be put into the hole, but I can’t imagine what that might be. Tonight, after they left for the day, I walked out and stood at the edge. The long grass was soft and bending over.
Mary Wallace
10/7/2020 10:03:39 am
I could see the hole Jim. It's waiting for a purpose.
Jim Woessner
12/7/2020 12:25:53 am
Thanks, Mary. I think the purpose is whatever an individual makes of it.
Bobby Warner
10/7/2020 02:11:00 pm
Good story of letting the reader fill in "what's in the hole." Loved it.
Jim Woessner
12/7/2020 12:26:46 am
You got it entirely. I believe in participatory writing, letting the reader do his or her part to "fill in" the story. Thanks.
Sue Clayton
11/7/2020 03:33:07 am
Perhaps they're digging nature's black hole to consume mankind. Interesting tale, Jim.
Jim Woessner
12/7/2020 12:27:10 am
Thanks, Sue. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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