Womens Fiction

A Place Called Wiregrass by Michael Morris

By Michael Morris

Erma Lee is at the run . . . operating from an abusive husband . . . working from a mom who does not care -- by no means cared. operating from a soul-numbing manufacturing unit activity that has held her down her complete lifestyles ... Erma Lee and her granddaughter, Cher, flee to town of Wiregrass, Alabama, to flee the previous and begin over -- or so Erma Lee thinks. Erma Lee types an not likely friendship with pass over Claudia, an aged socialite who's hiding a couple of information about her personal prior. existence in Wiregrass is diversified for Erma Lee and Cher, for the following they locate mercy and promise -- till, that's, the day Cher's convict father arrives on the town, forcing all 3 girls to come back to phrases with buried secrets and techniques.

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Sample text

Although I didn’t want to involve Miss Claudia in this, Cher had to learn a lesson. I brought her with me to work the last two days of her spring break, and she washed all of Miss Claudia’s downstairs windows. “Morning. Time to get on up,” I said on the second day. She lay in bed, mumbling and grumbling, until I took an ice cube and tossed it in her bed. She screamed and told me I was a child abuser for making her go through such torment. Maybe Mama was right about her being spoiled. Stopped at a red light just a mile from Miss Claudia’s, the car died.

A couple behind us peered to see what the commotion was all about. 46 michae l morris I have got to straighten up, I kept telling myself. But every time I tried to stop laughing, Miss Claudia would mimic Prune Face by dropping her chin, bugging her eyes out, and pointing to the floor with her index finger. Then it would all start right back up again. ” Cher held the menu up to her face. Through a blur of tears, I finally staggered to the ladies’ room, leaned against the magnolia-printed wallpaper, and howled.

Her bony fingers squeezed my shoulder tighter. I could only turn my head away from her. “I’m so . . so . . sorry. And these the glasses your husband . . ” Some sort of matter seemed to gather in my throat. Looking down, I saw an escaped tear mark a spot on her hardwood floor. “People make mistakes every day. You know what my husband Wade used to tell folks down at the store? ” If I’d had a tail, it would’ve been tucked between my legs. Instead, I tucked my head. When I turned to face her, I let myself fall into those hazel eyes.

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