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The Pond

The Pond Tony Hays Appalachian Heritage, Volume 18, Number 4, Fall 1990, pp. 11-13 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1990.0032 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/438327/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 21:36 GMT from JHU Libraries ^m^. by Tony Hays He dipped his hand in the tepid water half submerged in the red-tinted water and bathed his face. All around Billy while wagons, their axles busted, sat heard the moans and cries of the other crookedly. The wounded had edged up wounded. He rolled onto his side to to the water, Billy among them. The dead were scattered in odd, frozen posi- shield out the noise. A sharp pain told him he had torn open the wound in his tions. There was a scratching beside him shoulder. Looking across the moonlit and he knew someone had joined him. "Where you from, Yank?" a soft, pond, Billy saw the broken debris of war. Horses lay, shattered and bloody, drawling voice asked. Knowing it was 11 the enemy, but too tired to care, Billy wagons and the jingle of bridles and shifted to look at his new companion. reins filtered through the still air. Billy and http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

The Pond

Hays, Tony.
Appalachian Review , Volume 18 (4) – Jan 8, 2014
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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Tony Hays Appalachian Heritage, Volume 18, Number 4, Fall 1990, pp. 11-13 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1990.0032 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/438327/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 21:36 GMT from JHU Libraries ^m^. by Tony Hays He dipped his hand in the tepid water half submerged in the red-tinted water and bathed his face. All around Billy while wagons, their axles busted, sat heard the moans and cries of the other crookedly. The wounded had edged up wounded. He rolled onto his side to to the water, Billy among them. The dead were scattered in odd, frozen posi- shield out the noise. A sharp pain told him he had torn open the wound in his tions. There was a scratching beside him shoulder. Looking across the moonlit and he knew someone had joined him. "Where you from, Yank?" a soft, pond, Billy saw the broken debris of war. Horses lay, shattered and bloody, drawling voice asked. Knowing it was 11 the enemy, but too tired to care, Billy wagons and the jingle of bridles and shifted to look at his new companion. reins filtered through the still air. Billy and

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

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