Horrible Harvest
The Untold Story of the Confederate, Augustus Tennyson
Category: Uncategorized
-
I fount my way to the kitchen. The stamp-sized area was near packed to the rafters with Bobby and his gang – Or firm as he preferred to call us. We et without saying a word at first, but the silence felt sinister. Soon enough, small talk bounced from one fella to the next. Not…
-
I am a white male. My age puts me in the category of “elderly” to some, and to those people I say, fuck you! I’m old, not elderly. You’ll know the difference when you’re my age. I am also a Southerner. I was born in the South, and I lived most of my life in…
-
Felix hurried Virginia into the kitchen, and I stepped outside. Darren and the others were sitting in a half circle, chatting about the humidity that hung in the air. Approaching them, I asked, “Which one of you boys has the least to offer?” “Offer?” Darren asked. “In what way you talking about?” “Which of you…
-
Otto give me a dead-eyed glare at the diner. Mourners gathered there to sit with the loss of Felix in a group, eating fresh made water pie and drinking coffee, some with cream, some with whisky, most with both. Can’t say why I went. The Widow Jeffries asked me. That’s true enough, but it ain’t…
-
Trigger warning: Dehumanizing language and disturbing imagery. I sat down smack dab in the middle of the path Davidson always traveled around our property. Cross-legged, I stared in the direction he’d be approaching. I just knew he’d be on his way anytime. He just had to be. If there was a God, a claim in…
-
Trigger warning: This is a highly offensive passage. I know this because I wrote it, and the story about the baby in the coffle is based on a true story. It’s horrific and hard to read. In addition, this has that dehumanizing word that gives me no pleasure using, but unfortunately it’s necessary for tone…
-
We stared at one another for what seemed an eternity plus an hour or two. I only looked away when Charles yelled out, “You stuck, boy?” He was far enough away that it was hard to hear him, but he was also loud by nature, so he had good practice at overcoming such things as…
-
‘Fore we got back from trading out fresh chicken litter for fetid, the beatin’ I expected for failing to get the bays water come. Daddy pulled the wagons to a stop about a half mile into the return trip just to give me a smack around. It wasn’t his best work. He’d beat me fiercer…
