This afternoon I’m rereading Mark Richard‘s “Strays” for my Lit 150 class:
“Uncle trash rakes everything my brother and I owned into the pillowcases off our bed and says let that be a lesson to me. He is off through the front porch door, leaving us buck-naked at the table, his last words as he goes up the road, shoulder-slinging his loot, Don’t ya’ll burn the house down.”
