—for Uncle DaleOrange-red gravel roads crisscrossedfields where the flat farmland yieldedbales of cotton and tons of soy beans.We planted, chopped, and picked cottonfrom spring into summer through autumnfor fifty… More

At eight, I was a magicianable to slip from any confinement.After my stepfather beat meand imprisoned me in my bedroom,I decided to disappear,sneaking into the passagewaybetween the left brain… More