Testimony of the Cypress Boards
I was a cypress tree before I was a house. This is not a metaphor. I grew from the black water of Bayou Dorcheau for two hundred and thirty years before the men came with their saws and their mules and their sweat, and they cut me down and dragged me from the swamp and milled me into boards, and those boards became the west wall of the study at Beaumont Manor. The study is gone now. The wall is...
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