David Connerley Nahm

  LISTEN TO THE VOICES AT THE FAR END OF SUMMER (an excerpt)   Ancient Oceans of Central Kentucky by David Connerley Nahm ...
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Kayla Rae Whitaker

Lorla snapped off the TV. “Where are we going?” Matthew said. “Kentucky.” “Are we coming back?” “No.”

Re: Word: Willie Davis

Like this man, like my father, like any of us who deal in memory, I had to confess what I knew. People don’t come back, and they wouldn’t recognize us if they did.

Willie Davis

We called it a phase, no different than his CB Radio, his three seasons’ allegiance to the Buffalo Bills, my gambling, or Mallory’s drinking. Back when Mallory and I squabbled dawn to dawn, I pinned it on him never feeling at home anywhere except that two foot rectangle between his bed and his computer, the only part of his room he kept clean.

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