Well, I’m about to pack up the car and head off to the residency for the low-res MFA at Converse College! I’ll poke in from time to time, but in general, blogging will be light for the next two weeks—though I’m sure I won’t be able to keep to myself any important visits to Biscuitville or the Beacon Drive-In.
Her father’s body is sprawled on the floor. A torn piece of rope is tied around his neck; the rest dangles from the brass light fixture, its frayed end swaying back and forth in the breeze from an open window.Fifty years had passed before she told this story to me and my two sisters. It was the first time the three of us had heard it. Even after she married my father, she told us, she couldn’t discuss it with him.
