
They’ve trained up their boys with switches & belts. On storm-nights, a boy might fall asleep counting barrels of oysters to shuck.

13 outtakes from Sarah Viren’s Oxford American essay about Florida.

Days passed and I feared she would sleep forever. That the hospital had put her under a sleeping curse. I told Anne my theory that some doctors were witches, some were fairy godmothers…

Florida calls me ma’am, calls me darlin’, calls me Sweet Pea, depending on how well he knows me.

They laughed the day they broke my humerus and splinted it with wire coat hangers wrapped in black tape so my skin couldn’t breathe, so I’d understand honest pain.