I was driving home from my writing retreat in August, listening to this song…
Bonfires and summertime
Back porch nights in South Carolina
“You gotta help me.”
Summer tilted her head at – she was pretty sure she knew his name. Brad? Chad?
Tad!
“I have to help you? Really?”
“You gotta help me! Look.” He lowered his voice to a whisper that probably couldn’t be heard in the next county over. “I know you do the hoodoo.” Continue reading