A Dance with the Senorita

Life in Rockwood

The Senorita had watched over Emilia Flores’s garden before there had been a garden. The old scarecrow had shown up not long after the first house had been built. No one could remember who put the Senorita up with her black flamenco dress stuffed with straw and her pumpkin head, painted black and white with her eyes closed and a wry smile across her lips. But she seemed to do no harm, and when the first house was torn down and a new one built in its place, pains were taken to not disturb the Senorita. And when Emilia had decided to plant a garden, beneath the Senorita’s watchful gaze seemed the right place for it.

The garden did flourish. Occasionally they’d find a dead rabbit or bird among the tomatoes and carrots. Emilia would remark that it was the Senorita taking her due, that death was part of life, and that there was no better metaphor than a garden.… Read the rest “A Dance with the Senorita”

Lost and Found in the Mire

Jen drove into the swamp on a cool wet night. The roads were muddy, but her four wheel drive could handle it. She drove through the dark, an unopened beer in her hand. She thought about taking a drink because–fuck it– it was only one beer and anyone wandering through the swamp at this time of night deserved to get run over. But if it happened by some one-in-a-million chance, she’d feel shitty about it. She didn’t need that. Though killing someone would be the perfect finish to her night.

She drove through the mist, afraid she’d miss her turn. It’d been years since she’d been to the cabin.

The turn came. It was farther than she remembered. When the cabin finally came into view, she barely recognize it.

The place was a broken down shack. It still stood, but she expected it’d fall over if she slammed the jeep door too forcefully.… Read the rest “Lost and Found in the Mire”