menacing. The inside of the house suddenly seemed just as bad, and so I stood there, looking out at what I'd now think of as my willage. When the sun came up I would bury my dead and fill the empty bucket with hydrangeas, a bit of life and color, so perfect for the table. So pleasing to the eye.
Grateful acknowledgment is offered to the various editors I consider myself lucky to have worked with: Jeffrey Frank atThe New Yorker, Ira Glass at 'This American Life,' Maja Thomas and Steve Lament at Little, Brown, and Andy Ward atEsquire andG.Q.
Author's note: The events described in these stories are real. Certain characters have fictitious names and identifying characteristics.
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