


Mr. and Mrs. Brown lived here.
Mrs. Brown left.
Mr. Brown stayed…
because he had nowhere else to go.



Henry loved to ride motorbikes until it killed him.
We buried him out here behind the house
and hoisted that damn bike of his on the pole
as his marker.



Got up. Cooked some grits.
Normally I’d cook some bacon but didn’t have none.
Then washed the clothes to hang ’em before it get hot.
How old are you?
I’m 12.



This is Sandra.
Sometimes her grandkids come over to play.
Sometimes.


