Demon Copperhead

by Barbara Kingsolver

Anybody will tell you the born of this world are marked from the get-out, win or lose.

People love to believe in danger, as long as it’s you in harm’s way, and them saying bless your heart.

If you are one of the few that still hasn’t been, let me tell you what a city is. A hot mess not easily escaped.

Then we sat in the shade listening to what all was going on up in the trees. Birds having their discussions, a woodpecker making his little tack-tack-tacks, this whole other life of little beings out here minding their business and not actually giving a damn about yours. It could set you back on your haunches, in a good way. Why I liked the woods.

hit me pretty hard, how there’s no kind of sad in this world that will stop it turning. People will keep on wanting what they want, and you’re on your own.

But the main thing is, whatever you’re doing, who is it making happy? Are you selling the cheapest-ass shoes imaginable to Walmart shoppers, or high-class suits to business guys? Even the same exact work, like sanding floors, could be at the Dollar General or a movie star mansion. Show me your paycheck, I’ll make a guess which floor.

The moral of his story was how you never know the size of hurt that’s in people’s hearts, or what they’re liable to do about it, given the chance.

Never be mean in anything. Never be false. Never be cruel. I can always be hopeful of you.