The Fourth Egg

Bonnie was sitting now, wiping her face with her ever-present handkerchief. She sat, poker-straight, and stared at her shoes, not at her husband.

“It’s so stupid,” she said. “I’m Secretary of the 4H Club, for crying out loud. I been raising and slaughtering animals since I was Maggie’s age!”

Day One; Story Done!

Best of all, I’m loving reading everyone’s posts, which all have a kind of breathless quality to them. We’re all giddy and excited because we committed to this and can’t believe it, and yet we have written and had fun and are loving letting our creative kittens out of the river-bound sack.