A Tidings of Magpies

the long shadows of a late March afternoon drape themselves across the highway like discarded pairs of stockings lightly covering the graveled brim of road and extending out until just touching the wheels of the cars but never rustle at their passing. filigreed tips of the trees stretch into sky, blue giving away hints of the hazy pastel of evening soon to settle. exit 144-Corinth/Owenton and a bare stretch of interstate overpass empty to the right and left but for a white wooden sign, “Bob & Lois’s Diner,” a thin, red wagon wheel, and a dusty black pickup truck in the lot. we take the large 8-top by the window, orders of grilled cheeseburgers, slaw, and fries all around and settle in for our family meal. stories are told, laughs are laughed, and voices mimicked. stories of new puppies oohed and aahed as evening creeps forward and the folks of Corinth come and go after their supper eaten on the way home after work, still in their work clothes. we make our way home guided by a full ...