At midnight the next evening, thunder boomed, nearly drowning out a timid knock on the door.
Jakob was sitting in the kitchen and practicing his russet carving skills. Bela’s rejection had shaken him so that he dared not risk another true potato under his untalented blade. Instead he was practicing on marble. It was far easier to carve Bela’s beauteous countenance in the cool stone, but it was the potato that would truly show the lengths he would go to love Bela (until, of course, Woeisme reached a legal age).
But the knock, it was faint, but truly there! Jakob put his carving tools away and went to answer the door.
There stood Bela, soaked to the bone, tears spilling down her cheeks like the raindrops falling down from the sky. In fact, it was only the redness of Bela’s eyes and Jakob’s keen senses that told him she’d been crying at all.
Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 13 by Shana Jean Hausman”
Originally published June 5, 1992




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