(Author’s note: I’m incredibly sorry for the lack of posting through May. A lot has happened, but it is looking like July is going to be a great month for production, as I am moving from my current location to a place farther out from urban civilization. So, to celebrate my impending move, here’s today’s fictioneers!)
by Miles H. Rost
They all said Harlan Fisher was crazy.
“Why would go so far out to sell your blueberries?”
All Harlan would do is smile, as he took his tent to the side of the road at the top of the hill.
Months later, a marathon was scheduled to run through the town, right by Harlan’s hillside stand.
Harlan waited at the top, pitchers of purplish juice ready and waiting to pour.
Runner after runner passed, taking swig after swig of the refreshing juice.
After the race was done, Harlan just sat and looked out at the valley.
Now they knew why.