Member-only story
High Noon
ekphrasis of High Noon by Edward Hopper
Oct 21, 2019
She stood in the door, watching the handsome young farmer’s son across the road as he drove the tractor across the field. She had let her robe fall open, hoping he would see her when next he made a turn. She would pretend she didn’t realize her robe was open, as open as her heart.
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Copyright 2019 Marguerite Floyd all rights reserved
