The Marrow of Bottom Creek
The hurricane named Marian had no business existing. It formed in July over the Gulf of Mexico, strengthened to a Category Four in thirty-six hours, and then—on the night it made landfall in Mississippi—disappeared. Not weakened. Not dissipated. Simply gone, as though it had been erased from the atmosphere itself. What remained was the silence. Clementine Beauregard arrived at her grandparents'...
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