“Robert, tell me your stories, about marching south and fighting the rebels down there in Virginia, ‘cause it ain’t fair, I ain’t never been farther than Montpelier.”
“Well, Thomas, that’s as far as I ever want to go again; I reckon Montpelier’s got to be the finest, prettiest city in the world, but if you want a story, I’ll tell you about the time I marched with an army all the way to the city of Boston.”
“I thought Boston was of the Republic, what’d you go there for?
“It was before the war; I was about the age you are now when I helped drive an army of turkeys, thousands of them, to market in Boston, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that trip.”
“I want to do that, I want to drive turkeys all the way to Boston!”
Robert, falling into one of his weary silences, wished that Thomas could have that experience, but sometimes he felt the world of 1865 was changing faster than a steam train, faster than messages racing along a telegraph wire, and that feeling worried him as much as any of the other worries he’d yet carried in his twenty-one years.
The Six Sentence Story prompt from GirlieOntheEdge this week is “drive”. Get your ink to the link, or just head over there to read six sentence stories.