y up in the Appalachian mou

is old, fallin

es moo

hine, he calls it

rough men, loggers, miners wi

gives them a kick, make

ith Pa, a rickety shed set off from

come out, faces fl

y look...drained.

seen how h

n the "in

family traditi

tha, died years

nder about that. Ab

e still house alw

something else, som

akes the back of

urs, their trucks ratt

m, his face

ut him, a dark shine in his eyes that mak

away, and I st

rls to see, Sarah

w, like stones

y, not a girl. Bu

with

s us fed, keeps the roof, le

a coldness that seeps into the

and a knot form

s in that s

t brew so spec

thought of it m