Allen G. Breed

The rest of the house is just waking as Scottie Sizemore plops down in a rocking chair on his front porch with a cup of coffee. It’s midmorning, but the sun has yet to crest the ridge above, where mist clings like clouds that couldn’t quite make it over.

The rest of the house is just waking as Scottie Sizemore plops down in a rocking chair on his front porch with a cup of coffee. It’s midmorning, but the sun has yet to crest the ridge above, where mist clings like clouds that couldn’t quite make it over.