George Ellison. Artwork by Elizabeth Ellison. I Knew In My Heart “You ask in your letter of the bird that nested beside the cabin door before you went away,” she wrote. “The cabin burned in 1945. After moving to town I listened to him sing on a vinyl 45Continue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – “Ya know, some people swear this house is haunted,” the man said to his companion as they pushed through sprawling boxwoods that had begun to conquer the front walk. On the phone, she had introduced herself as Phyllis Nyswander of the real estate firm Nyswander andContinue Reading
Written by George Ellison – When the old man and his dog wandered into town it was just after nine of a Saturday morning. “My bird,” said the old man as he sat down beside me on the bench at the Bryson City depot, “don’t know but just one song. MostContinue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – The cars of serious buyers and treasure hunters, speculators and the idly curious, inundate the neighborhood. The tree-lined streets are ablaze with orange and red and gold, redolent of football and bonfires, hinting of winter. By 6:30, people are knocking on the door at 136 MaplewoodContinue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – I couldn’t sleep. Few of us can. That’s the deal. Wandering around, night after night after night. It’s not like we have homes to go to where we could close the blinds to shut out the light during the day. I could have killed for aContinue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – When old lady Cheminski disappeared after Christmas that year, we didn’t think much about it except it was nice to not have her yelling all the time. She was always shooing the birds out of her flower garden, hollering at dogs who wandered into her yard,Continue Reading
