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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-12_Miles_48_Stops-by_Robert_Steven_Williams.docx

shooting, he convinced her that the congregation needed to hear her angelic voice at the funeral. “More pie?” He shook his head. “As tempted as I am, I need to watch my weight. So tell me what’s going on.” Granny Jack brushed a crumb off the tablecloth. “That girl is so mad at Willie she can’t think straight. But I know she’s scared, that’s what it is.” “Remind me, how old was she when Willie was first sent away?” “She was in kindergarten, 11 when he got out. He’d bought her a stuffed lion with some of that prison wage. She called it Kimba. She loved that lion. And then … well, it was only a few months before more trouble.” The reverend took Granny Jack’s hand. “She’s gone through a lot. We can’t be too hard on her. She just wants to protect Bobby Ray.” “She don’t come much on Sundays anymore, but I know she appreciates all you’ve done. She might listen to you,” Granny Jack said, popping up from the table. “Come on, have more pie.” “No thanks, I’d best be going. I’m refereeing the youth club’s basketball game.” “But will you talk to her?”


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-12_Miles_48_Stops-by_Robert_Steven_Williams.docx
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