Oh to be here.
Another hour of weed pulling. Fun it is, but not as much fun in a pastel pink linen skirt and camisole set as uprooting dandelions in denim shorts and an old t-shirt. Not like back home with all that red clay that turns everything and everyone from little girls to puppy dogs nearly as orange as the sign over an Orange Julius stand. Pale colors in accordance with Pantone, and whoever the buyer is at the boutique by the beach. Nothing darkish brown enough to hide the smallest streak of mud.
my new short fiction piece published over on my Substack if you’d like to read the rest. The image is from Digital Library of Georgia.
https://sarahbguestperry.substack.com/p/1992-and-an-afternoon-in-spring-with
















































