Mercy on the Bluff
Mercy on the Bluff Part One The heat in Blairwell did not arrive so much as occupy, the way a tenant occupies a house that was never really theirs and then refuses to leave. By mid-July the Mississippi delta air was thick enough to drink, and Mabel Lane could taste it on her tongue every time she opened her mouth: iron and cotton dust and the sweet-rot smell of mud that had been baked by the...
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