( he tips his head to one side, an' sets about carvin' up the cake. he's careful an' meticulous about it. steady hands. he's silent a spell, though it ain't outta any sense of shyness or anythin' like reluctance. he's just a man what chooses his words careful before he goes on an' speaks.
at length, once he's portioned out a piece an' held it on out to the other fella — )
Well. I'm from Agathine, Alabama. It sure ain't a big place — guess it's goin' on about four hundred souls now, though there weren't much there for work before the War ever since the mine went on an' shut down. ( funny, how's you can almost hear the upper case letter in how he says it. the war. his war. defined a generation an' then some, an' put his body down into the dirt. he ain't one to hold to regrets or bitterness. dead's dead, an' he knows life goes on. he just hopes his boys got out all right. ) Ocean's a few hours away an' you can feel it in the air sometime. Smells like peaches an' magnolias for miles around in the summer. Hurricane season's a real doozy. Quiet place. Peaceful, mostly. Spent most'a my time out in the hills, explorin' just about everythin' I could get my hands on. Musta climbed every tree in Conecuh County, if'n you ask my Ma.
( he had an adventurer's soul. always wantin' to find the next ghost, hear their story, put 'em to rest if'n he could. he weren't the strongest in his family with the sight — that'd be albert, easy — but he'd been the most willing to engage it. gene whiled away the hours listenin' to old war stories from the men an' women themselves. the civil war was a livin', breathin' thing for him. to say nothin' of the generations of war an' conflict that lived in the land before that. )
An' then the War came up an' I joined the paratroopers. Been to a lotta other places since, though I reckon the names wouldn't be much more familiar to you than Agathine.
no subject
at length, once he's portioned out a piece an' held it on out to the other fella — )
Well. I'm from Agathine, Alabama. It sure ain't a big place — guess it's goin' on about four hundred souls now, though there weren't much there for work before the War ever since the mine went on an' shut down. ( funny, how's you can almost hear the upper case letter in how he says it. the war. his war. defined a generation an' then some, an' put his body down into the dirt. he ain't one to hold to regrets or bitterness. dead's dead, an' he knows life goes on. he just hopes his boys got out all right. ) Ocean's a few hours away an' you can feel it in the air sometime. Smells like peaches an' magnolias for miles around in the summer. Hurricane season's a real doozy. Quiet place. Peaceful, mostly. Spent most'a my time out in the hills, explorin' just about everythin' I could get my hands on. Musta climbed every tree in Conecuh County, if'n you ask my Ma.
( he had an adventurer's soul. always wantin' to find the next ghost, hear their story, put 'em to rest if'n he could. he weren't the strongest in his family with the sight — that'd be albert, easy — but he'd been the most willing to engage it. gene whiled away the hours listenin' to old war stories from the men an' women themselves. the civil war was a livin', breathin' thing for him. to say nothin' of the generations of war an' conflict that lived in the land before that. )
An' then the War came up an' I joined the paratroopers. Been to a lotta other places since, though I reckon the names wouldn't be much more familiar to you than Agathine.