The old man stared out from the loggia, shielding his eyes with his hand. “A good crop,” he said, “it’s a good crop we’ll have.” It was midday, and the cicadas were singing madly in the heat. “A good crop,” he repeated. But where he stared there were no fields.
Grove Koger writes for Laguna Beach Art Patron and Palm Springs Art Patron magazines and has published fiction in Cirque, Phantasmacore, Lacuna, Danse Macabre, Two Words For, and Eternal Haunted Summer.