Saturday Comes Burnie

Saturday Comes Burnie

A short story by J. Price Higgins

I kicked up dust about an hour when I spotted the house. First off, I thought it was vacant what with the sticker vines and high greens growing and that melancholy look old houses get when they ain’t no use to nobody any more. My palms fairly itched at the sight of them overgrowns. The twitch of a window curtain stopped me dead in my tracks.

Check out the J. Price Higgins tab and view the full story on PDF. 


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