THE DRIEST SEASON
IN THAT DRIEST SEASON, Cielle’s father hanged himself in the barn. A rope tied to a beam above stacked bales of hay, a wheelbarrow, rusted cans. Cielle found him. Home from summer school in the middle of July, and her legs couldn’t move beneath her. She looked and didn’t look. Her father hung still, bloated and blue. Years later she would think of chickens, pigs, and hides of cow tied up and heavy-looking on rope and hooks at the butcher’s.