Patty stood at the post near the end of the dirt driveway, red dust billowing around her ankles as a pickup truck sped by. She was waiting for her father. Her mother, her aunts, her uncles and cousins were all gathered inside, wailing, having already decided her father was lost forever, a casualty of the dark, murderous Mississippi night. She knew the stories, every child had overheard their parents whispering them – cowards hidden under sheets, lynchings, bombings, crosses burning. But, her father was brave; she knew he’d come back.
She’d never stop waiting.
Six Sentence Story Challenge prompt this week is post.