Swamp Poor Description:

I wanted to write a novella that had a relaxed mode that would be a soft landing for the over stimulated US citizen pressed into the frenetic pace we have all become accustomed to, forced into an artificially fast pace that is ultimately unhealthy physically and, I believe, spiritually.

This is my invitation to step out of the noise for a while.

This novella was written as a soft landing for anyone worn thin by the frantic pace of modern life. Here, the world moves at a human rhythm - slow enough for your pulse to settle, gentle enough for your spirit to remember itself.

Come sit with me on the front porch. Let the boards creak under your weight as you settle in. Listen to the birds say good evening from the pines. Watch the stars wake up one by one, unhurried and unbothered by the demands of the day.

Nothing here chases you. Nothing here shouts. This is a story that unfolds the way twilight does - quietly, honestly, with room to breathe.

If you've been longing for a place where time loosens its grip, where small kindnesses matter, and where the soul can rest without apology, you'll find it in these pages.

Pull up a chair. The night is young, and you're welcome here.

It had to be South Carolina; southern, rural, hospitable, and welcoming. I love the Carolinas, but it couldn't be North Carolina because you can't sling a dead cat in North Carolina without it landing on an interstate, hardly a place to slow down. Their state animal should be White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. South Carolina is different, I was pulled over in my big truck in South Carolina by a state DOT who wanted to check my papers, he did and then we talked about fishing for about an hour. It's a wonderful place with a wonderful pace and the DOT officer said as I prepared to resume my trip, "You be careful out there, you hear?" and it sounded like he meant it. I live in Alabama and we've got a Governor a lot of us call Meemaw, she's done a fantastic job and now has to hand the reins of power to someone else, someone who we hope is not a Florida ex-football coach. The man's about as lovable as a snapping turtle.

E.H. Lester writes fiction shaped by lived experience. He served 11 years in the USAF as part of the Strategic Air Command, then worked at Boeing Military Aircraft and later in industry before spending 25 years as a long-haul trucker. Now retired, he lives in Decatur, Alabama, where he continues to write stories grounded in the people and places that shaped him.