Dust Devil is an odd little story. It’s no secret I hate (HATE) wind, especially the gritty hot dry wind that blew every single day of my childhood in the Oklahoma panhandle. Grandma June hated it, too, so this story isn’t really about her, though she was on my mind when I wrote it.
The story began in a workshop, then it was taken apart and cobbled into other stories, then reworked again. It was a Frankensteinian process, and I’m grateful for all the support from beta readers and friends.
Thanks to Reflex Fiction for giving this story a home.
