Pa laughs. Comes out the gate and picks me up. We head for the house. The smoke is gray blowing from the chimney. Its a long way to the ground. His hair so black it shines in the sun. Like a crow. "Yeah, he probly is. Probly got too many hens on his mind. People's the same. There's always more chances to get their minds on the wrong things stead of the right things. Take your mother . I can't say I understand her, but she's a good woman, one of the best. But all she can think about is all the thousand places she thinks we'd be better off than here. Charlotte or Asheville or Atlanta Georgia for God's sake. When there's only one place for us that's better than here, and that's in the next life. And wantin to buy a car of all things. You don't want to go anywhere do you, honey?"
"I don't know. I ain't been." I can pat his hair. Black like a crow is sneaky. The way he pats mine. They watch for the corn you plant. You can shoot them with a gun.
Fiction: Holier
Than Thou | Main Map
Theory: Use of technology