Good, good man

He was the first one on Beulah or anywhere in this neighborhood I ever talked to. I came here white-fearful. But I came with a poker face, trying to be far more woke than I felt on the inside, trying to get my body to match what I considered to be my educated deconstructing mind. [...]

On the bench under her pear tree

So often my mind returns to that place, a barn and pasture hidden up the winding roads in the hills of east Kentucky, out of sight from the main road. In those quick and unbidden glimpses of memory, the times when my mind goes there like a flashback to some earlier significant scene, it is [...]