Grist  by Craig Towsley #writephoto

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

When the sun began to set, the miller loaded his the sacks on his cart and climbed up to the seat, grabbed the reins and got the donkey pulling. Halfway home, he overtook a man walking along the rutted road. The miller slowed down and invited him aboard. The man politely refused.

“Thanks, but we aren’t going the same way,” he said, a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Puzzled, the miller nodded, and continued on.

Continue reading: Grist | I Have Pretty Strong Convictions, I Guess

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