Countless Haints (Part 1)

Her earliest memories were of the taste of freshly turned earth and the bleating of goats.

* * *

"Pa?" Madrigal asked.  "You know what tomorrow is, don't you?"

"Of course."  Her father settled back in the creaking chair and placed his opened Bible upon his knee to hold his place.  He drew deep on his pipe, and the sweet-smelling smoke plumed around his bald, sun-spotted head.  "Can't say as I'd rightly forget."

Madi sat upon the hardwood floor, her legs drawn up close, her chin resting upon her k...