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The moon was a clipped fingernail adrift in a field of cotton, illuminating the rancher and the porch that he knelt upon with blue light.
“Just the same, I’d prefer to play it safe. You’d pull the cross off a church steeple if you needed firewood.”
“Are these horses upset that they’re still working while their grandchildren have been put out to pasture?”
“I am of a different type of thinking. The Lord took a part of me that I miss daily. That piece should suffice Him until I ascend myself.”
“There’s a very big difference between being intelligent and being smart.”
Mayor Theodore William Jeffries wiped tears from his eyes, snapped his reins, and rode directly at the glaring sun. For the duration of one heartbeat, his long shadow was a shroud for Oswell Danford.
