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The Lost Uncle

By Gregory Van Tassell

Copyright: 2012, Greg Van Tassell

All rights reserved.

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The Lost Uncle

Chapter One

The late autumn breeze of Richmond glides across the James River and brushes Michael's cheeks as it scatters with the leaves among the angels and statues and sarcophaguses of the previous century. He stands on the riverfront heights of Hollywood Cemetery and looks across the algae choked canal and its tow path and the still rumbling rail line along the bank. He watches the half mile width of water below flow around boulders long as flatbeds, pockmarked and buffed by meandering glaciers eons past, left like stepping stones for a breed of giants. More rock than water fills Michael's view due to a summer long drought that has grown tedious and turned the normally robust James into an enormous creek. A line of boulders a hundred yards from the far riverbank form one side of a normally submerged channel where a few intrepid citizens of Richmond stand watching rapids flow on toward the lower Chesapeake bay.

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