Edge of Dark Water

It was the kind of talk that made me want to break off a limb and take to whacking her and that bunch of hypocrites across the back of the head.

Era semplicemente il fiume. Improvvisamente mi colpì il pensiero che era proprio come la vita, quel fiume. Tu ci navighi semplicemente sopra e, se arriva una pioggia forte, un'inondazione o qualcosa del genere e una parte viene spazzata via, col tempo tutto torna al suo posto. Be', magari con qualcosa di diverso, ma in sostanza resta lo stesso. Il fiume non cambia, ma la gente su quel fiume sì.

This boat ain’t no damn good. We go downriver, we’ll have to take the barge, otherwise we’ll be tuckered out in a couple hours. The boat will fill up and sink to the bottom of the river. Catfish will be living in our skulls before a week passes.

Jinx said, “We all know we’re gonna look at it, so we should get on with it.” “I thought it might be good manners to at least act like we wasn’t,” I said.

I don’t know it’s such a good idea to dig up the past like an old grave. What’s in it might stink.

In the yard, I was startled by one of the free-ranging hogs that came around the side of the house and grunted at me, perhaps hoping I had an apple or something. It was the big black-and-white one. I started to reach out and pet it, but since it was gonna be eaten in the fall, I hesitated. It never set well with me to get friendly with something I planned to have on a plate with a side of new potatoes and collard greens. I felt it was proper to have a solid understanding between person and hog that no friendship was involved, though if the hog had known the true nature of its arrangement, I’m sure it would have found reason to depart for parts unknown, maybe taking the other hog and chickens with him. Besides, petting a wet hog, be it friend or supper, is stinky business.

like a pack of wild Indians.

To top things off nicely, it began to lightning in the east, stitching up the pit-black sky like a drunk seamstress with bright yellow thread.

What scared me then was what I figure makes some people religious. The sudden understanding that maybe there isn’t any measurement, and that it’s all up to us to decide. And no matter what you do, it only matters if you get caught, or you can live with yourself and the choices you make. It was a kind of revelation. Thinking on that made me feel cold and empty and alone.