Not to be outdone by Grandma’s cat, who slathered a gob of squirrel viscera upon the sidewalk, Boon whined at the screen door. Usually it was dross—holey sock, long-gone bones—but something’s different today: a tobacco tin with old coins, curled Greybacks.
Good dog, I say, over and over.
Leigh Ward-Smith is a writer, editor, and amateur duck-wrangler with a passion for literature in its many forms. Her work has been published in or is forthcoming for The Ghouls’ Review, 52nd City literary magazine, and the Bikes in Space fiction anthology. When not reading, parenting, or being outdoors, she can most likely be found blogging at Leigh’s Wordsmithery.