Dug over two or three beds in the veg plot; ground very dry and hard; hitting thick sods may be of a piece with reading the stories of Flannery O'Connor, several hundred pages of making your way towards death or other disaster. The end of each story is such a plunge I have to wait, if not plunge myself, into our pond.
Flannery kept peacocks; she lived with her mother on the family farm called Andalusia, in Georgia; ill with lupus, an awkward woman in her photos, her stories are the inside lupus voice, wrestled through with Catholic devotion and sacrifice, the tearing of flesh; someone will have fallen off the edge by the end.
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