1945 was a great year to be an eight-year-old boy in rural Indiana. School had just let out and my big bro was headin’ home. Tommy and Mag’s families weren’t as lucky as ours. The war had snatched their brothers. I felt plum sorry for them… but maybe not as sorry as I shoulda. Momma had… Read More Friday Fiction – It’s Just Not Right – Flash Fiction… Read More Friday Fiction – It’s Just Not Right – Flash Fiction