Okay, I am taking a break from my writing to post this short story idea, I thought of a few days ago that just kept popping up. This is an unedited short story that I felt I had to post for today.
A DEDICATION TO A RICE FARMER
He walks the quiet lonely rice field with his shovel over his shoulder, each day and evening. He checks for overflows, run off and leaks in the rice field levees.
Those who seen him says he looks the same, as the day they first meet him. In his straw cowboy hat, he even worn the same faded blue long sleeves wrangler shirt and jeans. And of course, not to forget his green hip boots, for walking in the muddy water of the rice field.
Only now a days he doesn’t speak, maybe to those who can see him on a lonely sunny day.
From what I know a few have seeing him walking in the distance fields with his shovel over his shoulders and some have even heard the old John Deere’s smoke pipe whistle, while plowing away, at dust in rice fields, that haven’t been planted in years.
For strangers who happens to meet him, will have a tale to tell about their visit to Southwest Louisiana.
To be continued…. Maybe?
©V.ROSE DEMET ™2014
Okay now, I am going back to editing my Chapter 1 and 2.