Grant and Emma had just seen the last of their children married. Ed was almost sixty, and Emma was only a couple of years younger. They now talked about all the wonderful things they would do together during their retirement years. Then the Covid virus came.
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Celese sighed as she climbed out of bed. She knew it was going to be a long day. She had some critical deadlines for work, and it always seemed like there was more to do than she could get done. It was then that she heard, “Mommy, do you want to hear about my dream last night?”
Mrs. Ward was known as a strict teacher, and we experienced it firsthand. Of course, her sternness might have been out of necessity. Our eighth-grade social studies class consisted of fifty-four rambunctious boys and was the last period of the day. As a group, we seemed to oscillate between overly energetic one day to half asleep the next.
Growing up in that small town, I knew every checker, and they knew me. At one point, Jason, one of the young men that bagged groceries, got sick. Jars were put on the checkout stands, and everyone put in their spare change. Jason was a cheerful, positive young man, and everyone loved him. The jars filled up repeatedly.
When Bart’s brother, Seth, tricked him into putting turpentine on his saddle sores, Bart was determined he would get revenge. Bart was ten, and Seth, being a couple of years older, often played pranks on him. Bart wanted the revenge to cause Seth to think twice about ever tricking him again.
Bart had ridden horses a fair amount, but not for extended lengths of time. He was now ten years old and was excited for spring, because he would be old enough to ride with the horsemen this year. They would take the cows to summer pasture soon, but first they had a long day of branding ahead of them.