The Weight of Good Soil
The heat in July was the kind that made you believe in God and then immediately disbelieve him, because if there was a God, why would he put the Delta this hot, this wet, this thick with the smell of rotting cotton and diesel and the sweat of men who had spent their lives breaking ground that would never break back. Preston Dupont sat on the porch of the family home — a house that had been...
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