Yorrie Rose - A Short Story by Bridget McKenna - Read Online
Yorrie Rose - A Short Story
0% of Yorrie Rose - A Short Story completed



Yorrie Rose’s mama is dead. She wants to stay with her Aunt Wanda, but Aunt Wanda’s husband—violent and cruel Uncle Ralph—is determined to send her away to live with strangers.

Yorrie needs to keep the only home she has, and her talent for slipping from the world we know into new futures may hold the key to her happiness and ultimately her survival.

Published: Ravenscourt Press on
ISBN: 9781507090541
List price: $0.99
Availability for Yorrie Rose - A Short Story
With a 30 day free trial you can read online for free
  1. This book can be read on up to 6 mobile devices.


Book Preview

Yorrie Rose - A Short Story - Bridget McKenna

You've reached the end of this preview. Sign up to read more!
Page 1 of 1

Yorrie Rose

Yorrie sat on the sagging bottom step of Aunt Wanda’s old front porch and watched a red ant stumble into a doodlebug pit.

Righting itself, it staggered toward the edge, clawing for a purchase in the tumbling grains of sand, while the doodlebug waited—patient as death—at the bottom of the cone-shaped depression in the dirt.

Abandoning Angelina face-down on the step, Yorrie inched closer to the scene of conflict, hunkering down with her head between her knees to get the best possible view. The ant slipped back the tiniest fraction of an inch. Yorrie clenched her fists. Come on! she whispered. Climb!

Six red legs working like pistons, the ant gained ground, managing a foothold near the edge. Encouraged, it scrambled up and almost over before the lip gave way and sent it sliding down the slope into the waiting jaws below.

Yorrie tugged thoughtfully on a pigtail. Not fair, she decided. He almost made it. She closed her eyes, frowning slightly, and took a couple of deep breaths. Only the twitch of an eyebrow broke her absolute stillness as she let go of now and went inside-outside. Galloping back through the past few seconds with coltish six-year-old grace, she turned, turned again, and found her prob’ly.

She opened her eyes. The ant approached the pit, hesitated, then walked around it to safety.

That’s better, Yorrie said. She dusted off her overalls, picked up her rag doll by one tattered arm, and walked back up the steps toward the kitchen door. Standing on tiptoes to see through the top half of the door, she pressed her forehead against the dusty screen and peered inside.

Aunt Wanda was sitting at the kitchen table, tracing the pattern of the red checked oilcloth with one finger. Aunt