From time to time, Appalachia Bare likes to spotlight some of our best submissions. “Grow Lavender for Luck Child” was written by talented storyteller, Linda Hinkle, and was the First Prize winner of Appalachia Bare‘s 2020 George Washington Harris Short Story Contest. We are proud to present this story forContinue Reading
After they slid out of the rusty old Chevy, Amanda found it hard to keep up. She straggled on the concrete driveway behind her mother who held her baby brother as he tried desperately to worm his way out of her grip, all red-faced and wiggling, but the harder heContinue Reading
My mom loved to tell me stories of her childhood when I was young. It was not uncommon for her to call my name and ask the famous question, “Who do you want to hear about tonight?” It was a calming ritual for me, as I cuddled up next toContinue Reading
Appalachia Bare would like to take this opportunity to thank our subscribers, readers, and viewers. We strive to bring unique content and stories that uncover the real Appalachia, and we’re so grateful for your interest. In the coming year, we’ll offer little gifts here and there for some of ourContinue Reading
-1- The locals of Orem Crossroads don’t need a calendar to know when July rolls around. Snails shed their shells in the triple digit heat and Jane mows her yard every Wednesday wearing her best house dress, the floral long-sleeved cotton, cinched at the waist. She sweeps her silver hairContinue Reading
The alarm blared and the Governor’s eyes snapped awake in the darkness. No time to dillydally today. He picked up his phone, swiped upward, and turned off the alert. He lay there for a moment with his thoughts floating . . . floating . . . until they congealed intoContinue Reading
Just once I’d like to hear a criminal invoke something besides the “withem” defense, an accused’s way of explaining that he didn’t actually commit a crime but was in the vicinity of those who did and was technically “with ‘em.” I also wish it was illegal for a client toContinue Reading
King Frederick flashed his old, worried eyes at the queen as they stood beside an ornate wooden bed where the chalky Prince Laverlier lay. The young man’s condition was a mystery to the day’s conventional physicians. The prince had been bled, burned, and poulticed half to death, but, alas, nothingContinue Reading
Sara filled the air with a pitiful cry, from somewhere deep inside her chest, that even made her daddy misty-eyed. She clutched her yellow dog, Milly, around the neck, refusing to let go, and, when Daddy put his hands on her shoulder, she tightened her embrace. Milly’s body was cold,Continue Reading