“She watched as a beer truck lumbered by with a clink of quivering warm, wet promises.”

“His saliva tasted like the wet dicks of ten thousand lonely truck drivers.”

“Something from out in the dark brushed her throat, dampfingers smearing her with warm wetness. She started, raising a hand against it, but touched nothing.A teasing whisper in her ear – no, more a thought. Come to me …She glanced around to see if anyone else had heard, but those near her gazed eagerly ahead. Except the Riper; he watched her.”

“To feel safe and warm on a cold wet night, all you really need is soup.”

“You remember Ernest Angley? TV healer. He’d slap people’s foreheads—whap!—and they’d flop over, quivering like fish.” She hooted in laughter. “I used to love watching him. It was like professional wrestling for Baptists.”

“It was Sunday, and Mumma had gone next door with Lena and the little ones. Under the pepper tree in the yard Pa was sorting, counting, the empty bottles he would sell back: the bottles going clink clink as Pa stuck them in the sack. The fowls were fluffing in the dust and sun: that crook-neck white pullet Mumma said she would hit on the head if only she had the courage to; but she hadn't.”