Literature of the American South
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Holston-literary fiction in progress.
Excerpt from Unaka
Beth became quiet, looking off into the distance of the room. "Don't go right now Elena. Sit down on the couch. He's mine, Elena," Beth said looking straight into the room.
Elena chuckled a bit and then said, "who is yours Beth, what is this?"
"That darling man Wayne. He's mine," she repeated with conviction in her voice.
"How do you know this Beth? We haven't seen him in over a year now. Just face it it; it's over with him," Elena pleaded.
Excerpt from
Holston
Ephaim lay awake on the couch. It was dark in the livingroom and the sky was dark outside the livingroom windows. He looked at the clock. The hour hand was in the six o'clock position. Suddenly, he felt disoriented: "was it six in the morning or six at night?" he asked himself.
"Maybe the shootings at Kroger were just a bad dream and the killings had never happened," he thought.
