Tuesday, December 11, 2012

17 Very Short Stories. -17-


The creek ran dry. It ran dry every summer, when the last of the rains ended and the springs emptied out, and then we used the ravine as a boundary line between the past and the present. It ran dry early, and I had just watched Indiana Jones for the millionth time, and I was excavating the creek bed, looking for dinosaur bones or Indian artifacts or something. There had to be something. The sun rose high in the sky, and I held my spade tightly, and I dug, searching for the bones of the past.