Ron Rash

Copy Image

Then one morning she’d begun to feel her sorrow easing, like something jagged that had cut into her so long it had finally dulled its edges, worn itself down. That same day Rachel couldn’t remember which side her father had parted his hair on, and she’d realized again what she’d learned at five when her mother left – that what made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting the small things first, the smell of the soap her mother had bathed with, the color of the dress she’d worn to church, then after a while the sound of her mother’s voice, the color of her hair. It amazed Rachel how much you could forget, and everything you forgot made that person less alive inside you until you could finally endure it. After more time passed you could let yourself remember, even want to remember. But even then what you felt those first days could return and remind you the grief that was still there, like old barbed wire embedded in a tree’s heartwood. (51)

Copy Image

It’s ever been the way of the man of science or philosophy. Most folks stay in the dark and then complain they can’t see nothing

Copy Image

One thing's sure and nothing surer. The rich get richer and the poor get- children

Copy Image

A place where something so terrible had happened shouldn't continue to exist in the world

Copy Image

We want what's in this world but we also want what ain't