Waffle House

The Map

Description of the featured liminal space goes here. In the meantime, I have instead put here the poem

July in Appalachia by Keaton St. James:

ma says there’s an angel in the creek out behind old mr. henry’s shack. she saw it when she was seven years old, playing by herself while her pa helped mr. henry with his hay bales: sliced her bare foot open on a jagged rock, and the angel swam towards the blood in the water.

ma looked right into the angel’s six blind eyes and asked him, “how come you’re down here, sleepin’ in the mud, when you could be up in heaven, plantin’ sunflowers for god?”

his wings were like a dragonfly’s, transparent and glimmerin’, and his halo was a ring of algae. the angel grinned, three rows of sharp teeth, and said, “girlie, god has plans for the bluegills too.”

Added 1.10.25. Last Updated 1.10.25.