The Winter of 1884

November 30, 2008

The Winter of 1884
By
Alex Hawk

Sally and I stood at the train platform as our father purchased his ticket to Chicago. His great-aunt had died and her estate was a mess. He had to leave our farm in northern Montana and go back East to try and sort things out. I wasn’t happy he was going to be gone, and neither was Sally.

Sally was, in fact, so unhappy that she was crying. She was doing it quietly, but doing it nevertheless. I tried to ignore it. Yes, it was going to be the first time we’d be on our own for any length of time (at least a month), but I figured we’d manage. I was fourteen now, after all, and basically a man. Running our little sheep farm on my own wouldn’t be much problem.

In the distance I heard the train whistle blowing and saw our father walking up to us.

“Papa,” Sally said, putting her arms around his waist. “Please take me with you! I don’t want to be stuck out on the farm alone.”

“You won’t be alone, sweet, you’ll have John to watch over you.”

“I know, but-”

He dropped down to his knees. “Listen, Sally, what I need to do is important. John will take care of things on the farm. You just help keep the farm house tidy like you normally do, alright? I’ll be back by Christmas.”

“You promise?” she asked, sniffling a little.

“I promise,” our father said, as the train pulled up.

My father walked up to me and shook my hand. “John, take good care of the farm while I’m gone. Make sure the sheep get into the barn alright once the snow starts.” It was late October and snow was due soon.

“I will, papa,” I said, trying to be brave and confident. I felt a little like crying, too, but didn’t. Our father was the only family we had. Our mother died giving birth to Sally. I was only two at the time, and don’t remember her at all.

“Albert Johansen will check in on you once every week,” he added, telling me again something he’d already told me three times.

“I know, pa.”

The next few minutes were filled with me helping my father get settled into his Pullman berth and saying more goodbyes. He also gave me a five dollar gold coin, just in case money ended up being a problem. Then, after promising to send us a telegram once he got to Chicago, he herds me off the train. I went over and stood next to Sally and we both watched, sadly, as the train took our father away.

Sally stood there crying for a little bit, and I let her until our dad’s train was out of sight, then I said, “Come on, Sally, we have to get back to the farm.”
She sniffled a little and said, “Alright, John.”

I lead her back to our wagon. We got onto it and I started driving the horses back to our farm. It was a four hour trip, which I wasn’t happy about, but at least we’d get back home before dark. Considering we’d left early in the morning when it was still dark, I considered this an improvement.

By the time we finally got back to the farm, Sally had stopped crying. She’d passed most of the time reading “Great Expectations”, which father had bought for her twelfth birthday back in May. She’d already read it twice before, but I guess she really liked it.

We got back to the farm just a bit before sunset. Sally went into the house to stoke the fire in the stove and make us something to eat. I made sure all the sheep were herded back into the barn. Once that was done I made sure they had enough feed and went back to the house to try and get some feed of my own.

Once Sally and I were done eating we sat near the fire reading. She had “Great Expectations”. I was reading “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”, which along with “Ivanhoe” was one of my favorite books.

Eventually we turned in for the night. Our house consisted of two rooms; the main living area with the kitchen, fireplace, etc, and another area that was a bedroom for all three of us. My father and I shared one large bed and Sally had a smaller bed to herself.

We both made one last visit to our outhouse and changed into our bedclothes. After that we retired to our respective beds, where I figured I’d probably fall asleep pretty quickly, as I usually did.

As I was starting to doze off, I head Sally say, “John?”

“Yeah?”

She was silent for a moment and then said, “Will everything be alright while Pa’s gone?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll take care of us, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Sally.”

* * *

A few days went by. Mr Johansen came out to see us on the fifth day. He brought some potatoes, which was good to have, since they’d keep well. Happily he also brought us a telegram from our father. He’d arrived in Chicago and was getting ready to meet with the lawyer representing his great-aunt’s estate. He said he hoped to be home soon. I read the telegram once and then passed it off to Sally, who read it several times and kept it under her pillow.

The next day we had our first snow. It wasn’t terribly heavy, only about three inches, but it was a good reminder that winter was almost here. I made sure the sheep had plenty of food and mucked out the barn while they went to wander about in the snow for a bit. I kept them in the fenced-off area near the barn. The last thing I wanted to do was to try and find twenty-five white sheep in a snowy field.

I was pretty distracted while doing all the work. Back last summer Franklin Johansen, the fifteen-year-old son of Albert, had taught me something really neat I could do with my penis. It felt better than anything, and I started doing it two or sometimes even three times a day. This came to stop back during the spring when my Pa caught me doing it out in the field and thrashed me good. He told me all about how it was a sin and God didn’t want me to do it. I still did, but only when I really needed to, like once or twice a week.

I began to usher the sheep back into the barn, thinking that after I was done, I could pop into the outhouse and stroke for a little bit. I hadn’t had the chance to do it since Pa had left, but I figured I could get in a quick one before I went back into house.

As I got the sheep inside, I found myself staring at the backside of one of them. Her small tail was lifted up and I could clearly see her anus and, importantly, her vagina. I knew what it was for; living on a farm I’d seen plenty of matings and had assisted in several sheep births.

Without thinking about it, I found myself rubbing my penis through the cloth of my pants as I looked at the sheep. I knew of course that humans mated in the same basic way that sheep did. My pa had given me a little talk about that last year. At the time I’d thought it sounded pretty gross, but after Franklin had showed me how much fun stroking could be, I got to thinking that maybe it sounded more interesting than I had first thought.

As I looked ever more at the sheep’s vagina a thought began to burrow into my mind. I started wondering… what would it be like? Would it feel like stroking? Would it better, would it be worse? What would it be like?

Figuring one way I could fulfill my curiosity, I reached out and placed my finger against the sheep’s vagina and then pushed, sliding it inside. It was warm, wet and tight. I wondered desperately what it would be like to have my penis in there.

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself unbuttoning my pants, and pulling them and my long johns down to my ankles. I got behind the sheep, stroking her head and whispering softly as I wrapped my hand around my erect penis, sure I was probably going to end up in Hell for what I was about to do, but too curious, and horny, not to.

With one hand, I steadied myself against the sheep’s backside. With the other hand, I directed my erection towards her, touching it gently against the entrance to her body. It felt warm. Swallowing hard now, and knowing there was no return, I pushed forward and watched in amazement and pleasure as my fourteen-year-old virgin penis sank down into the sheep’s vagina.

“Oh, my god,” I whispered as I pushed all the way inside. It felt like nothing I’d ever felt before. So much better than just stroking!

Remembering how the rams moved when mating, I started to move back and forth, sliding my penis in and out of the sheep’s vagina. She seemed indifferent to my penetration of her, and that was fine with me. Better that than her kicking.

I closed my eyes and started moving faster and faster until suddenly, with more pleasure than I’d ever felt before, my penis began to buck and kick inside the sheep’s vagina, sending my sperm deep into her body. I knew it was what got girls pregnant. I hoped it wouldn’t do the same to the sheep.

Once I was done shooting, I pulled back, my penis withdrawing from the sheep. I was a little shaky. Part of that was because it was the best thing I’d ever felt in the world, and part of it was that I figured now I was totally damned.

I took a few moments to pull my clothes back up and then went to the outhouse where I more closely examined my penis. It looked exactly the same as before, though it smelled a mite bit odd.

When I was done in the outhouse, I walked back to the barn, planning to just close it up, but it was only about thirty seconds before I had my penis back inside that same sheep. God, it felt good. I knew I’d be doing this daily until something better came along!

* * *

Another few days went by. We had another telegram from our father, telling us that he’d been delayed and would be staying in Chicago for at least another three weeks, until the end of November. I was slightly depressed by this, but Sally was crushed. As a result, she’d been feeling very lonely and had spent the last two nights sleeping next to me in my bed.

As for me, I spent most of my time dealing with taking care of the sheep, in more ways than one. I had sex with them at least two or three times a day, basically as much as I used to play with myself. It felt good, it didn’t hurt them, and it didn’t hurt me.

Meantime the snow kept coming. Not daily, but close to. By the time two weeks had gone past we had about eighteen inches on the ground and I was keeping the sheep in the barn the entire time. This made it easier for me to do what I wanted to with them, and it was better than them being out in the cold.

On the fifteenth night after our father went to Chicago, I was sleeping soundly and then had one of those annoying moments where I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I lay there in bed, staring up into the darkness, very aware that my penis was hard, and wondering what I wanted to do about it.

I figured I had a couple choices. I could go screw one of the sheep, but they were all sleeping, and it would’ve been cold dashing into the barn just to have sex with something. Otherwise I could suit up and head to the outhouse and play with myself, but that had the same basic problem as sex with one of the sheep.
Of course there was a third option. It would be tough to do with Sally sleeping only a couple feet from me, but it would still be doable. Very slowly I reached into my long underwear and extracted my penis. Taking it firmly in my hand, I began to stroke very slowly, not wanting to take a chance on waking my sister.

Despite my caution I was only stroking for a couple minutes before I felt Sally stirring next to me. I froze, to scared to even take my hand off my penis. After a few seconds she settled down and once my heart began beating again, I resumed my rubbing, though a little more slowly than before.

Not slowly enough.

“… John?” came Sally’s muzzy voice.

Swallowing hard and doing my best not to move, I said, “What?”

“You’re awake?”

“A little,” I said. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Oh, alright,” she mumbled, and then turned over and put an arm around me, trapping my arm in position with my hand still holding my penis. “G’night,” she said and then nothing further.

I lay there completely still, my penis throbbing. I’d never been so aroused as I was at that moment in time, which I knew was horrible on several levels.

“Sally?” I whispered. No response.

I was about to try to wiggle out from under Sally’s arm when a particularly evil thought crossed through my mind. Her arm was resting on my chest, just barely above my stomach and only a few inches from my hard, exposed penis.

I gently took Sally’s wrist in my hand. I whispered her name again and, after hearing no response, slowly moved her arm down and placed her hand directly onto my hard penis. Just having her hand there made me feel like I was going to shoot, but I managed to hold back. It took some real effort, though.

Taking a deep breath, I moved my sister’s fingers so that she was actually gripping my penis. Then I slowly began moving her hand back and forth. It felt wonderful, though not as good as doing it with one of the sheep, and I was worried she might wake up.

Good though using my sister’s hand to stroke myself was, I knew I couldn’t keep her doing it. If I did, she’d either wake up, or I’d shoot all over her hand, so reluctantly I pulled her hand away and quietly snuck out of bed. Five minutes later I was shooting inside one of the sheep. Five minutes after that, I was back in bed, sound asleep.

* * *

The next day dawned clear and warmer. Warm enough that the snow started to melt a little, and so after I shoveled some of it out of the yard, I led the sheep out of the barn so they could get some air.

As I did so, I saw a wagon approaching off in the distance. Eventually I recognized it was Albert Johansen. I waved at him as he got closer. He waved back, and once he was close enough called out, “I got a telegram for you!”

“Oh, good!” I jumped over the fence and came up to him. He handed me the envelope. I opened it up and read:

STUCK IN CHICAGO STOP LAWYERS BEING DIFFICULT STOP WILL NOT BE ABLE TO LEAVE BEFORE DEC 5 EARLIEST STOP LOVE TO YOU AND SALLY STOP

“Oh. Hell,” I said. “Sally is going to be very unhappy.”

“Your pa gonna be gone longer?”

“Yeah, he’s stuck in Chicago until the fifth of December at least.”

“Aw. That’s bad.”

“Yeah. You wanna come inside for a spell? Have a little coffee?”

“That’d be nice, sure.”

We hitched the wagon and went inside. I braced myself for the bad news and passed the telegram to Sally. Her face fell, but she didn’t make a scene. She just excused herself to the bedroom and shut the door. A few moments later I heard what I thought was muffled crying, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

“You know,” Albert said into the awkward silence that followed, “I know Sarah and Franklin would love to see you two. Would you like to join us for Thanksgiving?”

I thought for a moment and nodded. “That’d be good. I think part of why she’s taking this so hard is the fact that we’re stuck here all the time. Kind of like a pressure cooker, you know?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Well, feel free to come by after your morning chores on Thanksgiving. We’ll be glad to have you.”

“Thank you.”

We made a bit more small talk and then Mr Johansen left. I finished my coffee and then knocked on the bedroom door.

“Sally? Are you alright?”

I heard her snuffling a little and then she said, “I’m fine.”

I walked inside. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, a couple tears going down her face. I sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s going to be alright,” I said.

“I know. I’m just worried. I mean, what if Pa doesn’t come back?”

“He will,” I said. “He has to. He just needs to get things taken care of in Chicago and then he’ll be back here.”

“I hope so. I hope he’s at least back in time for Christmas.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Mr Johansen invited us to visit their farm for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh?” Sally perked up a little. “That will be good.”

“It will. So don’t be so sad, alright?”

Smiling a little, Sally said, “I’ll try.”

“Alright.” I gave her a little hug, feeling my penis twitch and harden as I did so. It remembered what I’d done with her hand.

“At least I have you to take care of me, John.”

I smiled and, on impulse, gave my sister a kiss on the lips. “Of course you do. You don’t need to worry. I couldn’t love you more if you were my wife.”
Snuggling up next to me, Sally said, “I love you, too, John.”

We sat there for a few more moments, then Sally said she was going to start getting some food ready and I went back outside to finish up my chores and, not incidentally, have some fun with one of the sheep. Just to take the edge off.

The night the two of us went to bed like normal, sharing the same bed again. I was very distracted and my penis was very hard pretty much from the moment I laid down next to my sister. I was determined to ignore the feelings I was having and just get to sleep. I certainly didn’t plan to use Sally’s hand to pleasure myself again.

After some time of trying to get to sleep, I heard Sally whisper, “John? Are you awake?”

“Yeah.” I turned towards her, seeing her face in the faint moonlight shining in through the window. “Something wrong?”

“What if Papa doesn’t come back?”

“He will,” I said firmly.

“But what if he doesn’t? He’s never been gone this long before.”

“You saw the telegram. He’s just been delayed. He’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“But what if he doesn’t come back?” she persisted.

I put an arm around Sally and pulled her close, hugging her against me. “Then I’ll take care of things around here just like he would.”

“You will?”

“Of course.” I gave her a tender, gentle kiss on the mouth, just like the one I’d done earlier, though this one lasted perhaps a second longer. “Don’t worry.”

Sighing a little, Sally snuggled up closer to me. “I’ll try not to worry.”

“Good.” I gave her another little kiss, this one even longer than before.

“That feels nice.”

“The kisses?”

“Yes.”

I kissed her again. “Like that?”

“Yes.”

I started kissing her some more, this time holding each kiss for several seconds and pulling her tight against me as I did so. She seemed to enjoy it and started pressing her body against mine as we kissed.

After a couple minutes of us kissing, Sally gave me a hug and said, “Goodnight, John.”

“Oh. Goodnight,” I said, giving her one last kiss. Then I got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Sally asked.

“Just have to check something with the sheep. I’ll be back soon,” I promised.

“Alright. Goodnight.”

As Sally rolled over to go to sleep, I finished getting some clothes on and dashed out to the barn. Moments later I was shooting my fluids into the nearest sheep. A few minutes later, I was doing it again. By the time I was done with that the edge had gone, and I was able to crawl back into bed with my sister, my penis only slightly hard instead of rock-hard. Eventually I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Thanksgiving arrived. As planned we went to spend the day with the Johansen’s, where we had a very good, tasty dinner. It was nice to get away from the farm and it was nice to be able to spend time with people other than each other.

A couple more days went by. I spent every free moment I had having sex with the sheep. It was the only thing that enabled me to sleep next to Sally every night without needing to play with myself while laying next to her. If she thought anything was odd about me spending so much time with the sheep, she never said anything. I doubted she had any idea what I was doing.

One Monday afternoon I was in the barn, my pants down around my ankles and my penis deep inside one of the sheep, happily thrusting away. I was so involved I didn’t hear the door to the barn opening, but I certainly heard my sister’s voice a few seconds later.

“John? What are you doing?”

“Sally!” I quickly withdrew from the sheep and tried to pull my pants up. Instead I fell over and as I was trying to keep Sally from seeing my penis and trying to pull my pants up, I said, “Go away!”

“What are you doing?” she asked again, walking towards me. “Is there something wrong with that sheep?”

“Please go back inside,” I pleaded. “I’ll be in in a second and I’ll explain then, alright?”

“Well… alright. I’ll see you inside.” She left.

Swearing up a blue streak I finally got my pants up. I patted the sheep on the rump absently and, after tending to the few chores I had left, went into the house, wondering what I was going to tell Sally.

By the time I got back inside, Sally had set out some dinner for us. Blushing bright red as soon as I saw her, I sat down at the table and started to eat silently. She sat across from me and started eating as well, looking at me from time to time.

Eventually she said, “John?”

“Yes?”

Blushing a little herself she said, “Were you… mating… with that sheep?”

I tried to think of something, anything, I could say other than the truth, but there was no chance. “Yes,” I said softly.

She nodded and ate a bit of her food, then said, “Why?”

I shrugged and picked at some of my vegetables. “It feels good,” was the best answer I could manage.

“Oh.”

I pushed around some of my food. “You know people do it the same way, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mating. Making babies. It’s done the same way as it is with sheep.”

She blushed again. “Oh. Yes, I knew that. Nancy Clarke told me that back on the 4th of July. You remember, at the big picnic?”

“Yeah, I remember.” I really remembered Nancy Clarke! She was so beautiful.

“Well, she’d told me not only how it was done, but…” Sally trailed off and actually looked around, like she was afraid someone would hear, and then in tones of great scandal quietly said, “She told me she’d done it herself!”

“Has she?” I asked, my penis getting as hard as it could.

“Oh, yes.”

“Who with?”

Sally shook her head. “She wouldn’t tell me. I think it might’ve been with Jeffery.”

“Her cousin?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm.” Jeffery was fifteen. I wondered if it was true. Of course they weren’t married, and I knew you weren’t supposed to do anything like that until marriage, but still. “What did she say about it?”

My sister shrugged. “She said it was fun and felt good.”

I nodded. “That’s why I do it with the sheep. Cause it feels good.”

“Oh.”

“But, look, please don’t tell Pa what I been doing, Sally? He’d be pretty sore if he found out, I think.”

“I won’t tell him,” she reassured me. After a bit more eating, she said, “John?”

“Yeah?”

“Well… if it feels good, why are you doing it with the sheep? Why aren’t you trying to, you know, find a girl to try it with?”

I laughed a little. “Sally, there aren’t any girls around here for me to do it with!”

Shrugging a little, my sister blushed and said, “If you wanted… you could try it with me.”

I nearly choked on the food I was swallowing as she said that. Finally recovering, I said, “What?”

Looking defensive, Sally said, “Well, Nancy told me it was a lot of fun and felt really good, and from how she talked about it, well, I keep wondering.”

“Oh.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I’ve been wondering about it a lot anyhow, but once I saw you with the sheep… well, now I’m really wondering.”

“Oh,” I repeated, aware of my penis throbbing.

Biting her lower lip, she said, “So… if you wanted to… we could try it.”

I thought. I knew brothers and sisters probably weren’t supposed to do this sort of thing with each other. But she was offering and I was very curious to see what it’d feel like with a real girl instead of one of the sheep. In the end, there was only one answer I could give.

“Alright. If you want to.”

“Alright,” she said.

We ate a bit more, neither of us making eye contact. Once we were done with the food, I said, “So… when do you want to try it?”

“Well, we can try it now, if you want?”

“Alright. Uhm. Where do you want to do it?”

Sally thought. “The bed, I guess. Nancy said that’s where she did it.”

“Alright.”

Sally walked into the bedroom, me following her. We stood next to the bed, eyeing each other awkwardly.

Finally I said, “So how do we do this?”

“The same way you do it with the sheep, I guess.”

“Alright. Well… you should probably be down on all fours, then.”

Nodding, Sally reached up under her dressed and wiggled for a bit. I watched as her undergarments dropped out the bottom. She then got onto the edge of the bed and bent over onto all fours, her feet dangling in the air.

“You’ll have to lift up my dress,” she said.

“Right.” I put a trembling hand at the hem of my sister’s dress and lifted it, exposing her bare backside. I took a good look. Everything was similar to the sheep, but different. Close enough, though, that I could figure out where everything went. As I extracted my penis from inside my pants, I touched a finger to what I thought was my sister’s vagina and said, “Here, right?”

“Yeah…” came her muffled reply.

Taking a deep breath I moved into position and pressed the tip of my penis against my sister’s vagina. Slowly I began to press forward.

Nothing happened.

I adjusted my position and tried again, pushing gently but firmly into her.

Still nothing.

“Am I in the right place?” I asked.

She looked back at me. “I think so. I haven’t done this before either, remember.”

“Yeah.” I gritted my teeth and tried again.

It still wouldn’t go in!

“This isn’t working.”

“Here, let me help,” Sally said. She reached back with both hands and parted the lips between her legs, giving me a view of a small hole. “See the place?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

I touched the tip directly against the hole and pushed forward firmly again. I didn’t think anything was happening, but when I pulled back a little I saw that just a bit of the tip of my penis was lodged in my sister’s vagina.

“I think it’s starting to go in,” I told her.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

I tried again, and this time managed to slide the entire tip into Sally. Starting to get the mechanics of this, I pulled back a bit and pushed forward again, watching as more slid into her.

Suddenly Sally let out a little yelp.

“What?” I asked, freezing in place.

“Sorry, it just kind of… stung for a second. Nancy said when she first did it, it hurt for the first few seconds. Like there was something inside that got torn.”

“Oh.”

“She said it even bled a little.”

I looked down where the tip of my penis went into my sister’s vagina. “Well… do you want to stop?”

“No, keep going.”

“Alright,” I said, not unhappy at that.

I pulled back and pushed forward again and after another couple minutes of effort managed to get about half my penis inside Sally.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It does a little, but mostly it feels good. Does it feel alright for you?”

“Oh, yes,” I said with great enthusiasm.

“Keep going, then,” she urged. “I want to see what it’s like once you’re all the way in.”

“Alright.”

It took about three more minutes of effort, but slowly, carefully, I finally managed to work every last bit of my fourteen-year-old virgin penis into my little sister’s twelve-year-old virgin vagina.

Once I was all the way inside, I held myself as still as possible, sure that even the slightest movement would have me shooting my sperm into Sally. It was one thing to do that to sheep. I didn’t want to do it with Sally. With her I just wanted to savor the good feeling of being inside her.

“I’m all the way…” I whispered. “How does it feel?”

“Pretty good,” Sally said.

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Alright. Can I start moving?”

“Yeah.”

Holding onto my sister’s hips I began to move in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her vagina clutching at my penis. It was so much better than doing it with one of the sheep! I mean, that felt good and all, but this felt so much better and very quickly I found myself pushing hard and deep into her as I started firing my sperm inside her.

After I was done, I stood behind her, panting, my penis still in her. My knees started to go weak, so I pulled out, hoisted my pants back up and fell down onto the bed next to Sally. She wasn’t breathing hard or anything, but was a little flushed.

“Did you like it?” I managed to ask her after a bit.

She lowered her dress and laid down on her back. “It… I don’t know. It felt good, but I thought it was going to feel better.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it’ll feel better the next time.”

“Maybe.”

“I mean… you know, if you’re willing to do it again.”

Now Sally shrugged and said, “I suppose. Not soon, though. I’m mighty sore right now.”

“Alright,” I said. I hugged her. “Well, just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Alright.”

We laid there in silence for a bit, and then Sally got up to go deal with the dishes. I went out to tend the sheep and then we passed the rest of the evening in somewhat awkward silence, just reading books until we finally both went to bed.

* * *

Four days went by. After I dropped a couple hints, Sally said we could try coupling again. We did it three times, just like we had before. Each time felt great to me and Sally started to enjoy it more, too, which was good.

Then came the day we’d both been waiting for, as we got a telegram from our pa saying he’d left Chicago and was in Fargo and would be home in just a couple days! We were both overjoyed at this news, though I was slightly apprehensive. I didn’t want it to mean an end to what I’d been doing with Sally, though I knew it would be bad to keep doing it once Pa came home. If he caught us…

Pa got home the next day and that was the end of the fun Sally and I’d been having. It turned out to be a good thing, since there’d always been the chance I might’ve gotten her pregnant, which would’ve been very hard to explain.

Meantime, I had the sheep.

END

Copyright 2008 by Alex Hawk, all rights reserved. Edited by Arthur the Panther.

2 Replies to “The Winter of 1884”

    1. This one (and Love in Levittown) was posted by Alex, right before he ended his site and his writing. They were both included in the .zip file he posted for a few days, containing (almost) all of his stories.
      So you can say I got it from the master himself 🙂

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