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April 2018, vol 14 no 1

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Rebecca Drouilhet

Seasons in the Sun

Yesterday we got word that a cold front was moving through. Every August in Mississippi, the sun hangs like a bare light bulb wilting plants and people in the heavy air. But, this is December, and last week the temperatures climbed into the high eighties. An elderly neighbor had to kill a copperhead that was trying to come through her front door even though snakes are usually dormant at this time of year. Perhaps the reason people in my part of the world are preoccupied with hell is because they are living in it most of the time.

bible belt heaven –
the taste of a snowflake
on a sinner's tongue