Recollection (opens in new tab)

During my grandmother’s prayers, I would watch the cracked earth just outside her windowpane, the dust lifting like sermons lost in the dry air. My favorite story was of the river that once carved through the valley, its body endless, spilling into the fields. Less famous is how the Big Pharm diverted it, how the heat pressed its lips against . . . The post <a href=" first appeared on <a href="