Flash Special: Works by Curtis Smith (September 2014 / 14.17) — with artwork by Leslie Marcus
Bluecurls and Aster
The cavalry detachments stumbled upon each other. The fog thick, October in the valley, and with the men away, the unpicked apples lay rotting in the grass. Fifteen minutes, a butchering, the fever of those mad years. After, the bodies of men and horses littered the field. Rigor mortis, bloat, the stench overtaking the apples’ vinegar scent. Before the dead could be buried, a local boy picked through the corpses’ pockets. He left the valuables but took the photographs of wives and children. The boy’s father dead. Another field, another state, the same stars above. Or so the boy believed. The months to come brought snow, the first in years. Then spring, the wildflowers, bluecurls and aster. Their blooms unaltered by the blood in their roots.
A man and woman, both naked…
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