Drabble: Cloud and Sky by Chris Schryer

Friday, March 16th, 2012
In the place where I was born, stones had been used to mark boundaries for four hundred years. We harrowed stones up in fields, turned them up in roadcuts. We built the foundations of houses from stones, dug around and between them. We made stone walls, and our greatest poet wrote poems about those walls and their lichen-speckled granite. The gift of glaciers, and the wry joke of farmers. “She’ll grow a ton and a half an acre, between the stones.” The people who lived there before mine made tools of them, made weights and currency.
Art by Kelly MacAvaney
Twabble: ""Grampy, have you heard of the Grandfather time travel paradox?" she whispers. I can only nod, because of the duct tape." by Zedaysi