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Works of fiction and poetry by friends of Bamboo Ridge Press.

THIS IS A YEAR OF THE ROOSTER CONTEST ENTRY

HAIL FATHER

Published by JIM HARSTAD | Sunday, November 12, 2017 7:25 AM


100 words for November.


Whitey, an avid golfer, thought I should be too. The last time he
visited, ever, he brought a five-gallon plastic bucket full of old
golf balls he'd collected over time and bequeathed them to me. Dutiful
son, I stuck them in the attic and forgot them. Palolo gets a lot of
rain, but no snow, and no hail. Except once, the day diesel-driven
hydraulics tore down our old Joe Pao house -- hail the exact size of
golf balls bounding, bouncing, skipping, scattering at all angles down
the street down the hill down the valley, eager to join Whitey in
Eternity.



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COMMENTS


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Lanning - Saturday, November 11, 2017 9:26 PM.


Love it, Jim. The image of those bouncing balls is wonderful.