Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Excerpted from Sweet Spot (Good Cotton)

Good Cotton

          Little Rock, Arkansas, 1979

Marie’s pregnancy sent her home to Savannah. Her left-fielder husband was a power hitter; carried the gentleman of himself in his pocket. I borrowed his car just to smell his cologne. I let loose a sigh—it was easy—we were all hungry for something. His clothes were heaped in the front seat, freshly laundered. Fingering one of his cotton sleeves, I remembered what Marie said: it all comes out in the wash.


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