The Death Farmer
By Theresa C. Newbill
Part six of nine


Alan Parker is sweating profusely as he tosses and turns in his bed.

"What exactly are soul-mate eyes, anyway?" Alan asks as he swims closer to Kelly.

"The ones you have when you look at me, " she says as she splashes some water over his head.

"You're really weird Kelly Anderson."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

Kelly swims over to the riverbank where a multi-colored blanket awaits her arrival. Alan follows her and lies down beside her on the blanket. Kelly looks over to Alan and recites,

"I drove until I found the grove of apple trees heavy with fruit, and left the car, the motor running, beside a sagging fence, and entered his life on my own for maybe the first time. A crow welcomed me home, the sun rode above, austere and silent, the early afternoon was cloudless, perfect…"

She cocks her head with a smile before pushing her shoulder up against Alan's body.

"So what's that from?"

"It's an excerpt of a poem by Philip Levine."

Kelly lies down taking in the sun and the cloudless day. Alan scans her body noticing a slight swell on her belly. He passes his hand slightly over it, "I take it he wasn't your soul-mate. So what's his name?"

"Steve. No, he's not my soul-mate."

"He doesn't want to take care of the baby?"

Kelly shrugs, "He wants to make something of himself before... He says he doesn't think he can make me happy."

"So I'm your soul-mate, huh?"

"Well, you have those soul-mate eyes."


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Theresa C. Newbill is a is a self described free spirit and former elementary school teacher turned writer. Her work has been widely published in various print and online magazines and she has received numerous awards for her writing.