The question the emu had for the pig was, “Why headless?” “It’s just the sort of thing he does.” The pig’s corkscrew tail did not twitch as he explained, fixed as it was to his plaster haunches. “It’s his vision, if you will.”
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Ever since the night he learned about his father, the light bulb in the center of the ceiling has been staring down into his room, filling it with a vigilant wakefulness, as if God Himself is squinting through a peek hole at
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Momma put a note in the bulletin that we were looking for clothes youth size four for the boy with the split lip who came up out of the French Broad. His skin was green, not golf course green or lawn mower
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Shirley Jackson used to be my best friend but even then I didn’t really like her because she was better than me at everything. She was prettier, for one thing, and even though neither of us wanted a boyfriend she could have
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