“He knew that this little driveway he was parked in was hooked up to every road in America; and he knew all those roads ran to the sea.”
Something I wrote for lunchhourstories:
A spider ran across the parson’s head. The parson was doing his hospital rounds, visiting with a man who’d married into a bubblegum empire and lived a life bordered in thick gold before ending up in this suburban hospital overlooking a shallow manmade pond, with a tube stuck through his gut for…