A little moonshine

If your wandering Appalachian meadows, down by Bear Creek, just before Sweet Cain Ridge head over to the tall pines. Follow the dirt road, red with Carolinian clay, and look for a wisp of woodsmoke coming from a small log cabin. Weave through the corn and the herb garden and you’ll most likely see Hickory tap tap tapping away at some chainsawed tree trunk carving.

Tonight with some friends round the rejects will burn in the fire, there will be song and a few dances under the waning moon.  Maybe a drop of moonshine but just now Hickory can only dream as she’s only a neck and a brown felt top hat.


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