This week I continue with my list of Texas independent bookstores and a story at the end. Wild Detectives Bookstore in Oak Cliff, Texas

Last Friday my friend Cathy and I continued our tour of local bookstores. In Texas, “local” can mean anything within a three hour drive, but that day we only had to venture to Oak Cliff, about a thirty minute drive from home. This neighborhood, the Bishop Arts District, is filled with quirky boutiques, cozy restaurants, coffee shops, and of course – bookstores.

Poets Bookshop in the Bishop Arts District

Lucky for us the streets were mostly shaded, proving relief from the hot Texas sunshine. We trekked from Wild Detectives to Poets Bookshop and then on to Blush. This last store features romance titles and my companions wondered if I, a horror writer and reader, would find anything to tempt me. I did see some witchy stories, but they were all books I already owned.

Blush Bookstore, Bishop Arts District

After lunch we abandoned the sidewalks for Cathy’s Subaru, and drove to our last two destinations. We stopped first at Whose Books, where I made up for the lack of romance titles by discovering three new horror books.

Whose Books in Oak Cliff, Texas

Our last stop was at Lucky Dog Books, a used bookstore. We all left there with our arms filled with new to us titles.

Lucky Dog Books in Oak Cliff, Texas

There is no more perfect way to spend the day than in the fellowship of other book lovers.

Interior of Lucky Dog Books

This week I’m sharing a flash fiction piece I wrote for one of the NYC Midnight Contests. I think the genre might have been historical fiction and the object that had to be included was a rocking chair.

Love Makes Lighter Burdens

Mattie Ferguson would forever mourn the things she had left behind. No porcelain plates, no beads nor bells—she traded these for coffee and bacon, for shovel and scythe.

“Oregon! A new start, Mattie.” Her husband, Jonas, swept her up in sturdy arms and swung her round. Dizzy, her old life spun past.

Released, she sat in her beloved rocking chair and gripped the smooth oak. Built by her father, she imagined his worn hands as he sanded the wood, pictured her mother seated by a fire as the rocker soothed a fretful baby.

“We’ll find room,” Jonas promised.

They toted the rocker through flood-swollen rivers, and grave-marked desert. They trod beside their struggling oxen, past piles of treasures, discarded in hopes of a load lightened enough to last the journey.

In Idaho, they lost an ox. With meager possessions carved down to essentials, Jonas could not meet her gaze.

“No!” Mattie spread her fingers across her rounded belly. “I’ll carry it.”

Jonas smiled and lifted the chair. He’d bear it for her—a burden made light by love. The last mile slipped past. The trek became a story for their children and their children’s children.

A century later, a young couple pushed through a beaded curtain to wander a dusty shop. Janis Joplin wailed from the radio as smoky incense wafted through the air. The woman stopped beside an antique rocker.

“We need this,” she told her lover. “It’s boss.” 

“It won’t fit in our car.”

She pouted.

“Okay, our pad’s close. I’ll carry it.” He lifted the chair, surprised at how light the load was.

The End – Thank you for reading!