Reblogged from Two on a Rant:
They sat on the front porch, rickety oak planks creaking under hard wooden rockers, watching the last remnants of dusk fade from view. The half-moon near a misty horizon looked as if Martha could touch it. She reached toward it, her new husband laughed, and she blushed her embarrassment.
“When are your parents going to replace the wood on this porch?” Martha asked.
“I love the sound of rocking,” Jerry replied. “One day, you’ll love it, too.”
“No, she won’t,” A voice said.
Wearing a long grey dress with a brown apron over it, she stood next to Jerry’s chair, the details of her face marred by insufficient moonlight. Her white hair betrayed her age as somewhere over 60.
“Who the hell are you?” Martha asked.
“She ain’t got no manners, Jerome,” the woman said. “She’ll be an all right…
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