No one goes past the pin-wheels. No one dares. They spin silently, red flecks in the fields.
One field is always red, unharvested. No one knows why. The red harvest will always be there.
No one asks the price. They know the answer. “Everything we have.”
TATTA-TATTA-TATTA-RATTA. It echoes in their dreams, reverberates in their whispers.
No one looks at it, but it’s hard to ignore. The church is silent, except when the wind whistles through the holes in the walls. The ash sometimes makes the children sneeze. But it is never discussed, never addressed.
There is one table no one sits at. No one could sit there anyways; it’s split in half.
A man set down his cards and grinned. “A one-eyed Jack. I think I won.” Everyone gasped. No one would look at him after that.
No one has shot a rifle in years. They don’t dare. The Owl is following them.
I only just discovered this meme and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. It’s so creative and weirdly beautiful. So I unironically love it. I just had to do one for Rose Creek.