On Wednesday, I published Literary Game No. 8, asking writers to submit a complete story in one paragraph. Well, no one can say I don't eat my own dog food. Today, I give you my one-paragraph story.

Titled "Stranger In the Barn", it follows farmpunk conventions, which I created, and drives a story to one final three-strand note. I hope you like it.

Stranger In the Barn

One slow step at a time, Eli Threadbottom trudged his way to the barn with one thing on his mind. Prep the tractor for the day's field work. His limp caused him to move slower than usual, but it didn't matter, he was in no hurry and took his time opening the barn doors, first the right then the left, and maneuvered himself in with no thought but that tractor on his mind, and just as he lifted himself up to the seat, he saw it, hanging, dangling, swaying like a scarecrow in the wind. A body. Neck broke, a three-strand cord choking the life out of it—as if a corpse had life—eyes bugged out as if to say I'm lonely and need rest, and it suddenly hit him, he knew the cord, he had bought it, kept it for years, held onto it for no reason other than he might need it someday, but that man, that stranger, that drooping bag of flesh, that he had never seen before.

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First published at Substack. Image by ChatGPT.