The Trees

by Percival Everett

“Gertrude, this is Herberta Hind,” Jim said. “She’s from the FBI.” “Fat Boys Incorporated?” Gertrude joked.

“Did you read the tattoo on her neck?” Jim asked. “I couldn’t make it out.” “Break here in case of emergency.”

“Everybody talks about genocides around the world, but when the killing is slow and spread over a hundred years, no one notices.

American outrage is always for show. It has a shelf life.