Tammy Borden
A Story in the Stones
The neighbors must have wondered why a stranger in her Sunday best was picking through the rubble where a barn once stood. Weeds and tree saplings had grown where stanchions once held holsteins, and granite field stones were scattered where they had broken free from the mortar and tumbled from the collapsing walls. She hiked up her skirt and tip-toed down the center of the cement foundation amid nail-laden and splintered boards, where barn cats and an old collie named Butch u