Medicine Show

You could read the sign on the side of Dr. Randall’s medicine wagon from a half-mile away. He’d roll into town every couple of months to put on a show. It was a cross between a tent revival meeting and a wandering minstrel faire.

Granny used to say all Randall sold was snake oil and lies. His pills were powdered sugar and his tonic just sassafras-flavored moonshine. His potions could only cause diabetes and cirrhosis, she’d say.

Indeed, I suspect he isn’t even a real doctor,” Granny would scoff.

She still got her dandelion tinctures from him on the sly.

Forsooth and/or Indeed
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Inspiration: Dr. Randall
Inspiration: Read

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I believe all good fiction includes an element of truth, and all good photography includes an element of fantasy. In this journal I hope to give voice to the stories swirling around in my head, and to capture the images I see through my camera’s lens.

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