we thought green was lush
But here it’s the background noise
For the oceans blue
About the Creator
Deborah Busch
A flight attendant and mountaineer, I write what I notice. I usually take a picture.
Haikus are my steady outsource, but I’m looking to expand.
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More stories from Deborah Busch and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Blue Ridge Stalker
Tom had left the Ford down the way, its spark plugs finally exhausted and no mechanics for a dozen miles back through the foothills to Strossburg. No matter, he had worn his boots—almost as if he planned for this to happen. The puzzle he sought to solve emanated from the woods clinging to the slopes above; the valley behind held no mysteries.
By Stephen A. Roddewig2 days ago in Fiction
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