Horrible Harvest
The Untold Story of the Confederate, Augustus Tennyson
Category: Uncategorized
-
Picture this. You’ve been working on a book since 2020. It’s been a passion project. You completed a behemoth first draft, thought it was genius, only to discover it was shit, and you retreat from the book for a few months before you decide I can rewrite this piece of shit. You sit down, get…
-
I tend to reveal too much at times… all the time. So, I probably shouldn’t write this blog post, but I also rarely take my own sound advice… I never take my own sound advice, but let us move on. Traffic for this blog has been shit. For many different factors. No one knows who…
-
A large tree with thick branches, a good number of which twisted into spirals from base to tips, give the headstones shade. The graves, they was all marked with home-carved headstones, save one. I’d sent Julia money years prior to give Douglas’ burial site a proper stone, but looking on it now, it felt wrong.…
-
You – You sumbitch setting in your chair or propped up in your bed or wherever it is you crack open a book in whatever time you live – You’re cozy and warm, reading this here tale of my fucked-up life – You’re clever as shit and you know’d right off that I lied to…
-
I stepped outside, climbed atop my mount and sent the mare into a trot to the barn where I fount Charles carrying his boy on his shoulders. He looked concerned and unsurprised to see me. He set the boy on the ground and told him to get on to the house. The child give me…
-
It was two hours ‘fore I found Charles’ homestead. It was a small two-story house with a tiny barn nearby. The front faced a pile of mountains and the rear was nothing but flatlands. I fount a tree some hundred yards away and watched for any signs of life. I heard the distant sounds of…
-
Sixty-three dead. The ladies and boys done most the killing. That ain’t to say they didn’t lose a few of their own, but they give more hell than they got. Tate and me helped them collect their sundries, pack up wagons, saddle a mess of horses, and then we’s all took a torch to Miller…
-
Tate sprinted around the back of the church, and I peeked around the sidewall, waiting for the men to come scurrying out the bank like a flock of geese. A minute passed, then another. It felt like forever and a day’d passed. Just when I was about to give up on the idea that I’d…
-
“We’re deep in it,” Tate said, from the window. “Gun fire drew a good number of them out.” “How many?” I said, resting Douglas’ head on the floor. “Two dozen – Maybe more – Definitely more.” I stood and started grabbing rifles off their racks. “Piney,” I yelled. There weren’t no response. “Piney.” Not a…
-
“The truth is, I’m done talking. Let’s do what we come here to do,” I said. Tate give a nod. “I do ask one favor before we get this thing started.” “What?” “I get to kill Mr. Miller. That cracker is mine.” I checked my sidearm. “Fair enough.” “I got Mr. Stockton,” Douglas said. “That…
Horrible Harvest 