The Samantha Years


I entered a writing contest a month ago…the premise of the contest is below…

“You are the sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming. It appeared to be an ordinary day, but then …”

We couldn’t exceed 500 words…I didn’t win but here is what I came up with 🙂


“Dammit Joe….this better be important. It’s early and just got myself a coffee and bear claw.”

“Lucy Miller’s running around town.”

“Again? She’s not …is she….?”

“Naked as a jaybird.”

“The usual place?”

“Uh huh. They’re scheduled to bury Bill Jones at 10:00. The caretaker’s beside himself and won’t step outside until Miss Lucy’s gone.”

The Sherriff grabbed his coat, a robe from the lost and found and was out the door. He could only imagine the maelstrom should the poor Jones family find a naked, 90 year-old woman running around the Absaroka County cemetery.

He pulled in through the gates. On a hunch he drove over to Lucy’s husband’s grave. He could see her body laying still in the grass; her long grey hair blowing gently in the wind. Oh no, she’s dead, he thought.

The Sherriff ran over to the body, “Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy?”

Lucy rolled over to her back and opened her eyes. “Well hello Sherriff.”

He let out a long, relieved sigh and then remembered the task at hand. “Miss Lucy, come on now. You know you’re not supposed to be out here…..naked. It’s cold. Put this on and let’s go.” He tried to lay a robe on top of her exposed body without looking at anything.

“This is my favorite place Sherriff and he is right here, aren’t you, John?” She giggled and rubbed the grass gently with her hand. “The grass tickles my bum. He used to tickle my bum.”

He blushed at the thought and tried to focus on something else. The caretaker peeked out the window and then darted behind a curtain. “Please Miss Lucy, the Jones funeral starts in an hour.”

She slowly sat up, the robe falling off her shoulders. “Well, who am I to hold up a funeral.”

“Thank you ma’am,” He bent down to help her up when Miss Lucy got a wide eyed-look and pulled away.

“Sherriff! Sherriff, did you ever see him?”

John Miller died before the Sherriff started working in Absaroka County. He never knew the man, only the legend that brought a 90 year old woman out in her birthday suit.

“No Miss Lucy, I’m sad to say I never saw him.”

“Oh, he was,” she sighed and held a blade of grass to her cheek, “intoxicating …. fabulous.”

“I’m sure he was fabulous. I’m sure you both were.”

Her eyes snapped open. “Still am.”

A florist truck pulled up to the funeral home. The Sherriff heard a loud discussion and the panic in the caretakers voice….crazy lady, naked, don’t get paid enough for this crap. “Miss Lucy, it’s time to go. We have donuts at the station house.”

“Donuts! When life hands you donuts….you should eat them.” This time she did get up and much to his relief tied the robe. Her hands held clumps of grass.

“Can we leave the grass here?”

She held the grass to her nose and inhaled deeply. “Course not, John wants a donut too.”

1 thought on “Donuts!”

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