There’s this place out in the woods we used to play in. It has ends of old cars sticking out of it. We liked to look at all the out of state plates. Sam said it was no place for young un’s. He said that’s where the old fergettin’ pit was before they filled it in and dug a new one a few miles away. The fergettin’ pit is were folks toss stuff they don’t want no more or stuff they want to forget about. It used to smell real bad round there. I don’t know why anbody would want to forget about an old car, but there sure were a lot of them around there.
A place to store the things I write. The posts are listed from oldest to newest in the archive list, that is really the best way to read them. For now everything here is fiction.
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