TESTIMONY OF THE STEEL TABLE
The rain in Oklahoma does not wash things clean. It only makes the dust slicker, turns the topsoil into rivers of mud that carry away the last of what the drought had left. I am not a person. I am a steel table, rectangular, four feet by six feet, four legs bolted to the floor with rivets that have rusted but still hold. I was made in 1932 by a factory in Tulsa and delivered to the clinic of...
0 Commentaires 0 Parts 1 Vue 0 Aperçu