An excerpt from a short story that I wrote, inspired by my neighborhood, just ran in our community newsletter. The story focuses on a wooden man that sits atop a utility pole. That part is true. There is a man on top of a pole.
It’s a mystery how it got up there and who put it up there. (I am sure some old-timer knows but nobody I have asked seems to know and more than a few people didn’t even know it was up there). I noticed the other day that the Man’s head was starting to bend and fall apart.
My narrator goes around, trying to find the answer but only gets more and more confused, even as his own complicated story and past begins to fold in around the Man.
You can read the whole story here.
Peace (and fiction),
Kevin