Knockemstiff

by Donald Ray Pollock

I haven’t been what you’d call hungry in a long time.

I know everything about her, and I wonder how long it will take me to forget that.

where hair continued to grow, undisturbed by butcher knives and old men.

it seemed as if all the shame and fear I’d ever carried inside of me was burned away like a pile of dead leaves.

“we’re gods, remember? Shit, we can do anything.”

Both daughter and father jumped at the sound, one still flush with innocence, the other guilty of a thousand trespasses.

couldn’t escape the sounds of televised religion.

Besides, I’m beginning to believe that anything I do to extend my life is just going to be outweighed by the agony of living it.

a dog barked three or four times, and up the road a car engine sputtered and died. I’d grown up here, but it had never felt like home.

He was still watching the men on TV beat each other senseless for a chance at happiness.

For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he might be considering his other option, and it became clear to me that he was tired of it all. But after glancing over at my brother, he carefully fastened the hose back in place.

The fight was nearly over.