I was still folded up like an old dog by Miss Josephine’s feet. She was wearing some satiny slippers, torn in some places and thin in others. Parts of her feet and toes bumped out here and there so that they looked like little bags of new potatoes. Ray’s eyes were slits; just to look at him you’d have thought he was dozing in the sun, but he still watched everything that came up the street, his head cocked sideways in his hand. Miss Josephine hadn’t missed a beat counting right along on her leaves and the leaves of leaves, forever and ever amen. Did she even know I was down here next to these worn-out feet of hers? There were mimosa fluffs all over the ground, trodden down like runny globs of pink cotton candy somebody had dropped out of one of those cardboard cones. It made me sad to see them ruined. Nobody was around. Preachers and Heroines of Jericho long gone. All of Ray and Zenie’s neighbors who’d been sitting and fanning on their porches or front stoops or watering their petunias and zinnias had up and done a vanishing act since Mama drove up.
What do You think about The Queen Of Palmyra (2010)?
