Mississippi Delta 1975

A town begins its slow demise. All its’ young, bright hopefuls are leaving in droves. My street is without sidewalks as the municipality falters. Our house, a squat, low ranch, sits behind a Magnolia. In a kitchen, knotty pine cabinets and tired linoleum, I, six, at the table, sobbing; my young parents already falling out of love, quarreling.

From this, things take root. My mother and I aligned; Daddy’s casual cruelty; a divorce. Gardens give blossoms and fruit. Also, thorns, weeds, and noxious things that will leave you wounded. Fresh soil so fertile yields such painful bounty.

I am pleased to share that these 100 words earned me a Josie Rubio Scholarship from the Gotham Writers Workshop.

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