Ree, brunette and sixteen, with milk skin and abrupt green eyes, stood bare-armed in a fluttering yellowed dress, face to the wind, her cheeks reddening as if smacked and smacked again.

The heart makes dreams seem like ideas.

I had been born shoved to the margins of the world, sure, but I had volunteered for the pits.

Fading light buttered the ridges until shadows licked them clean and they were lost to nightfall.

I have a book in the pipeline of short stories. You want to hear an agent scream, say 'I'm thinking about doing a collection of short stories set in the Ozarks.

I said shut up once already, with my mouth.

Pine trees with low limbs spread over fresh snow made a stronger vault for the spirit than pews and pulpits ever could.