A family recipe, a childhood memory, a Depression-era handout
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A. Manette Ansay lives in Ithaca, New York, where she will be teaching creative writing at Cornell University this fall. Her stories appear in upcoming issues of Columbia, Crescent Review, North American Review, and Quarterly West. Her story in this issue first appeared in The Tampa Bay Review.
The old man is sitting in his newest hole, a big one, half-concealed by the hedge. I squat beside it as he explores the dirt with his hands. Our lawn is a rough and violent landscape; everywhere there are angry holes, wounds that are unable to heal.
Peter sprawls across the floor of my living room, which is also my kitchen and dining room, and talks to me about my life. He smells like alcohol swallowed too fast. The cat is under the coffee table, eyeing him with distaste.