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A Spring Evenin’ on Aunt Frances’ Porch

Some evenings slip into your memory quiet as a cat, curl up, and never leave. One of mine took place on Aunt Frances’ front porch, out there near the edge of Roy Webb country where the road narrowed, the cotton … Continue reading

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Posted in Alabama, Jim L Wright, Memories, Piedmont Porchlight Stories, Wright Tales | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment