The Kudzu Chronicles - Oxford, Mississippi [excerpt]
1. Kudzu sallies into the gully like a man pulling up a chair where a woman was happily dining alone. Kudzu sees a field of cotton, wants to be its better half. Pities the red clay, leaps across the color wheel to tourniquet. Sees every glass half full, pours itself in. Then over the brim. Scribbles in every margin with its green highlighter. Is begging to be measured. Is pleased to make acquaintance with your garden, which it is pleased to name Place Where I Am Not. Yet. Breeds its own welcome mat. 2. Why fret if all it wants is to lay one heart— shaped palm on your sleeping back? Why fright when the ice machine dumps its armload of diamonds?
From Unmentionables by Beth Ann Fennelly. Copyright © 2008 by Beth Ann Fennelly. Reprinted by permission of W.W. Norton. All rights reserved.