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    Storm Poet
    Storm Poet
    Storm Poet
    Ebook30 pages26 minutes

    Storm Poet

    By Kim Antieau

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    About this ebook

    It hasn’t rained in Michigan for a long while, and Billy Forché’s parents are worried they will lose the farm. Billy is tired of his silent father and is glad when his father’s stepbrother, Andrew Forché, comes to the farm to dry out and bring rain. That’s Andrew’s gift: He can make it rain. Or so they say. Billy’s father thinks it’s all fairy tales and nonsense, but Billy and his mother hope the storm poet can do his magic and save them all.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGreen Snake Publishing
    Release dateMay 1, 2011
    ISBN9781465709325
    Storm Poet
    Author

    Kim Antieau

    Kim Antieau is the author of Mercy, Unbound. She lives with her husband in the Pacific Northwest.

    Read more from Kim Antieau

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      Book preview

      Storm Poet - Kim Antieau

      Storm Poet

      Kim Antieau

      Published by Green Snake Publishing at Smashwords.

      Copyright © 2011 by Kim Antieau.

      Originally appeared in Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, 2006.

      Discover other titles by this author on Smashwords.com.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Storm Poet

      Kim Antieau

      Last night I dreamed it rained, I told my mother as we walked outside to my dad’s Ford coupe. It was 1932, and we had not seen rain in this part of Michigan for a long time.

      That could mean a storm is coming, Mom said. Maybe dreaming is this boy’s gift, Lester. His song. She looked over at my father as he came out of the barn. He said nothing.

      Everyone is born with a gift, she said as she straightened my shirt. My dad and I were traveling from Brighton to Wayne to bail Grandpa Dan out of jail. Again. Only some people never unwrap their gift or sing their song so they never know what their gift is.

      And some people should never unwrap it, my dad said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. Cuz underneath all that pretty wrapping ain’t nothing at all. Come on, Billy.

      I got into the passenger seat next to Dad. Mom handed me a black metal lunch box. Neither of my parents were verbally expressive, at least not in a colorful way. As a boy of almost twelve, I felt this deprivation keenly. Every word that came out of the mouths of Bobby Joe’s parents was so colorful. They painted an entire picture with one sentence.

      "Why, she was prettier than

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