The good old summer time

My short story The good old summer time is up in the April issue of  the Dead Mule.

I may not be a moonshine drinkin’, sweat-drippin’, pickup drivin’, yankee hatin’ redneck who eats greasy bacon, runny eggs fried in lard with grits, and sits on my neighbor’s sagging porch drinking beer and smoking cigars, but I like to write about them, and I do enjoy an occasional meal of shrimp and grits.

That’s only part of my southern legitimacy statement. Click on the Dead Mule link to read more. 

Harry has five poems in the April issue. The husband and wife team strikes again! The last time we were together was in Chiron Review in 2008. I saved the envelope our acceptance letters came in.

The good old summer time is set in spring, not summer. It’s about change: coping with loss, winter turning to spring. I wrote this story two years ago after my mother-in-law passed away unexpectedly. Her funeral was on the first day of spring–see my previous post: March

Because Harry’s mother had been sick for quite some time, I wondered how she could have hidden it from her family and friends. Connellsville, Pennsylvania is,  after all,  a small town. And then I realized, maybe she was aided in the deception. Perhaps the entire town played a part in the conspiracy. So the original title of The good old summer time was Conspiracy of Silence.

As stories often do, this one took a different course than I had planned. It veered from a town conspiracy to two men finding friendship through grief. Throw in a piano playing spirit and you’ve got The good old summer time.

Enjoy.

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