The man raises redbone bloodhounds. He lives in a backwoods mobile home, alone, save for the awful memories of Vietnam. He cradled dying men, bagged bodies of fellow Marines, killed with vigor and was wounded three times. Most of these horrors have faded to shadows. One, his belief that he was responsible for a friend's death, seems indelible. The elderly couple are in their 80s now, their children long grown and dispersed. Their dead son, their second oldest, a victim of Vietnam, is never far from their thoughts and prayers. They now know how their son died, that another Marine believes he...
The man raises redbone bloodhounds. He lives in a backwoods mobile home, alone, save for the awful memories of Vietnam. He cradled dying men, bagged b...
. . . Roy picked up a pebble and casually tossed it into a part of the stream where water had pooled. He watched the widening ripple. Every action we take, he pondered, produces some form of reaction. Parts of the ripple bumped into the surrounding bank and were repelled, while other parts filtered through reeds, engulfing them gently. Another section of the growing undulation was quickly swallowed by the force of moving water.
. . . Just a few hours ago this man was enjoying life. How can this be? Byrne fought off the impulse to...
from "Motel Sepia"
. . . Roy picked up a pebble and casually tossed it into a part of the stream where water had pooled. He wa...
