Kiara Lowe

(an excerpt)

Common sense’ll tell ya that the North and South ain’t the same. Shoot, a compass will too. You see that big ole N at the top and that big ole S at the bottom when you open it. You know what else be at the top and the bottom like dat? Heaven and hell. And I’d be lying if I told you that the South wun’t hell. None good bout it. Ain’t none to do but sit on the porch, talk stuff, and just burn up. That heat just like a curse. Can’t see it, don’t know what you did to deserve it, but it’s there. But if you really wanna talk curses, Kara Lyn Sumner know bout em better than any-body. Ain’t no point in askin though. Folks nowadays was lucky if they got to see ole Kara Lyn outside the house. Wun’t none bringing her out that house. Not no firework show, not no kids playing, not even them juicy, dripping red pickles from Miss Dandy shop. Nah, she say she bared witness to so many shows, if you looked in her eyes, you couldn’t see none but sparkles. And she watched so many kids come and go that they might as well had the same face. And Miss Dandy been had that shop since the beginning of time, but she might just give you a quarter for a pickle cause they really was sum serious. But you know she lying. She just scared of that curse, so she hiding. But this Sayersville. This the South. And I’d be lying if I told you the South wun’t hell. And of course, you know how hell is. The flames gone find you wherever you hidin out at.

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