Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Square Dancing in the Coop


This Story was written for the
barnesandnoble.com presents...Write & Win Contests!, topic: Music. The rules, in short, were that the story had to mention the topic, and be 250 words or less. This story took second place in the contest.
Granny loved the fiddle, and she sawed a mean tune Sunday afternoon.
The porch was small, and most of the older folk sat in the shade to be found there. The some of the others sprawled beneath trees to find relief from the sun.
I didn’t bother, the humidity was thick enough to boil crawdads in my pockets, and a little shade wasn’t going to help.
Cyrus looked like a fool, standing in the center the pen. He crouched; feet planted firmly apart, arms akimbo as if he were a wrestler at the county fair. The hen watched him from the corner of her eye, not deceived by the stupid expression on his face. He wasn’t going to outsmart her, but she knew if he were to fall on her she’d be fried up with taters and biscuits within the hour. She clucked quietly to herself, feathers smooth as if she were alone in the world.
Bubba leaned back, rolling his chaw between his lip and teeth, occasionally spitting like a grasshopper into the dirt. He tapped his foot to the music, and I noticed everyone seemed to be nodding to the jig a little bit.
That’s when Cyrus swung his dang arm at what we had expected to be lunch, and ole hen jumped just high enough to use that momentum to let him throw her outta the yard.
Well, there went dinner, and the fiddle too. Bubba jus’ laughed. He likes cornbread an’ beans jus fine.
~January 15, 2005

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