Tiffany Hanssen

Fence Posts

The loneliness that blows in on a winter wind is comforting in a way. The depth of its darkness, the bite of its chill, the stultifying silence are all old friends, telling the same story over and over again. No surprises. Of course these thoughts were not formed so much as felt by Carl Odegaard the night he left the farm late, entirely too late, to check on that one fence post. The one near the southeast corner of his cow pasture that leaned no matter what he tried, dragging its neighbors down with it.