I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant’s way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in.
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Terry Engel has worked as a supervisor in a particleboard mill and as a lineman building high-voltage powerlines. His first novel, Natchez at Sunset, is forthcoming in June 2021. He teaches at Harding University and kayaks the rivers of Arkansas.
When Sarah’s mother, Penny, got sick four years into our marriage, we decided to move back to Mississippi, considering it penance for the sins of our youth. We signed a lease on a house, a white one-story on the historical register with a wraparound porch and angels, stars, and the moon painted on the transom above the front door.