December 03

The Fundraiser

The metallic echo of hailstones rang from the empty tin bucket that stood by the steps leading into their clay adobe on the afternoon of Friday, October 25th, 1918. Alonso stood shivering over the morning paper now ten days old that Doc Toyo had spread out flat across the kitchen table – his index finger mashed down on the bold block letters that read, SPANISH FLU now IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NEW MEXICO. Alonso feared the worse for Julio, his only son who just two days before had…

Read it here: published by The Harpoon Review: