Molly Beth and I sat in the hospital cafeteria; she was mashing macaroni and cheese under her plastic fork. “We had a baby chicken a few weeks ago,” she said. “It got a foot disease or something so its momma kept pecking it to keep it away. It died.” She said this matter-of-factly, like she was explaining the mechanics of a seesaw, or why all kids…
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Seth Haines 