published in Volume 4, Issue 3 on December 31st, 1997"A delicate balance exists between all elements on a farm.
Too much of anything takes away from everything else."
When Gris Gris' time came, she delivered seven perfect replicas under our creaky front porch steps. Their mews sliced through the cold winter morning.
When Dad woke, he gathered all seven in the crook of his sinewy arm, and thumped their sightless heads against a creosote post. Gris Gris cried once, then rubbed seductively against his khaki leg.