by James S » Jan 25, 2002 @ 1:46am
The auger bit bore deep into the sloven wood as the scythe swayed majestically like a pendulum over a field of straw. It was the hour of harvest in Lancaster; the moon showed well the time of year and what was to come. They had to prepare for the winter months which were fast approaching, as it would be cold indeed.
The children played carelessly in the fields and hillsides. They had no worries regarding the long months ahead. Their mothers knew, however, the hardships soon to be and mindfully let them play outdoors before the snow forced them housebound. The fathers took part in preparing the home and heart for winter days through the many tasks that must be completed. At the dinner table conversation was as spares as the remaining margarine, but silverware still clattered heartily. The people paid no direct heed to the foreboding skies, but prepared for it's coming all the same.
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An excerpt of an unnamed book currently being written by James Sonne. All Rights in the process of Reservation.
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