Cropper’s Cabin

28159179763_c13f2f8f48_o thumbnail
9310079900_3a73df47f8_o thumbnail

A Lecherous Old Man — His Son — A Field Girl

From the back:

It was a grubby piece of land — not our land, of course, we just leased it — dry and rocky, the good soil slipping away fast every year. It was the kind of land where you had to get down on your hands and knees and sort of coax the cotton to come up out of the dirt.
But that wasn’t the worst. There was Pa. He was dirty, Pa was. Maybe he’d been digging too long; some of it came off on him, inside. And Mary, my half-sister. Every time she sidled over to me in the field, her dress sticking to her flesh, all hot and sweaty — what was a guy supposed to do?
Then one day someone got killed. And Pa and Mary let them put the blame on me. Just so they could smear some of their dirt on each other . . .

via via

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *