THE SHAME OF IT

THE SHAME OF IT By John Thomas Tuft Tandy Blue likes getting up each morning to feed his chickens. He’ll scoop some grain out of the galvanized tub with the cut off bottom half of a plastic milk bottle, shake it around on the ground for his ‘girls’ to scratch and peck.  Then into the …

THE RAPTURE

THE RAPTURE BY John Thomas Tuft Martin is a man who believes in being ready for anything. His greatest desire is to forfend any great surprises in his life. Because his greatest fear is being exposed. Martin did not have any deep, dark secrets of any portent, but he is filled with fear of being …

WWTSD

WWTSD By John Thomas Tuft Sometimes I sit and recall. Sometimes I sit and recall the grief. Sometimes I sit and recall the grief of others and how it lives on. Sometimes I sit and recall the grief of others and how it lives on in my own heart. I don’t really understand why that …

NO ONE ELSE WILL BE THERE

NOBODY ELSE WILL BE THERE By John Thomas Tuft Seth Barker worked in the Shady Parts Country Store on Route 29, about midway between Lynchburg to the south and Charlottesville to the north. Lots of rolling green hills around, not mountains per se, though it is on the eastern skirt of the Shenandoah. The edge …

LONELY SECRETS

LONELY SECRETS By John Thomas Tuft “Chocolate ice cream with ranch dressing, on the side, please. Maybe some whipped cream on top.” Cherry smiled at the man, pen poised above her order pad, noting his long white-gray hair tied back in a ponytail. His eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, and the lines …

THE STOLEN LULLABY

THE STOLEN LULLABY By John Thomas Tuft I am in the bedroom trying to separate stacks of CDs full of my favorite music. It is Good Friday. The day of the stolen lullaby. The CDs are sticky and grimy. I pick up a few and carry them into the bathroom where I’ve prepared a sink …

SEND FOR ME

SEND FOR ME By John Thomas Tuft Percy owns a small filling station out in the back country. His 49 years have been filled with hardship, hard labor, and a broken heart. The road where the filling station sits was not paved until the 1970s. (If you are unfamiliar with the term ‘filling station’ then …

FOREGONE CONCLUSION

FOREGONE CONCLUSION By John Thomas Tuft Trace Boston was a rising star in the music world. He wrote and sang a combination of The National type of song mixed with a bit of Taylor Swift and Tim McGraw vibes. His scratchy baritone voice charmed listeners and his good looks helped him to rise quickly in …

PIGEON PIE

PIGEON PIE By John Thomas Tuft I drive south from Pittsburgh, following the Ohio River down into West Virginia. I am on my way to the Long Reach area, the longest straight stretch of the mighty river. It is twenty miles long, flowing between Ohio and West Virginia. If you look from the middle of …

THE WHISKEY HOUSE RULES

THE WHISKEY HOUSE RULES By John Thomas Tuft “Preacher Boy, pull up a chair.” The invitation came from my inveterate whiskey philosopher, Zeke of the Mountain, indicating the old rocker beside his on the cabin porch. “’Bout time you climbed up here to take in the view. You still writin’ them stories and books?” I …