Novel by Christina Carson
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Quote from Suffer the Little Children:
"Perhaps what we call misfortune is actually a place where the universe interrupts our habits that keep life so limited and small, forcing us to respond differently. The opportunity it offers depends on how hard we work to close the gap or hold it open, allowing ourselves to glimpse realities we've never glimpsed before."
Novel by Christina Carson
Quote from Dying to Know:
"I knew in that moment, we were never meant to surrender our childlike innocence, to trade a world in which we fit like a glove for one that hung on us like ill-fitting hand-me-downs. However, all about us insisted on our membership. And instead of a handshake or a mystical password as entrance into this spurious society, we agreed instead to share a lie, the one that says we’re safe, secure, and fulfilled living this way."
Did you know the state bug of Alabama is the cockroach? That’s what Country-fried Mama said who found out the hard way, that rather than signs of filth and poverty, cockroaches were just part of the southern landscape. Deal with it.
Having no history with roaches, my introduction to this ancient insect was in university under rather unusual circumstances. Being subjects in respiration experiments, roaches were housed in the biology building in what were called farms. Somehow the roach farm tipped over, and from that point onward, the basement was infested with them. Well, I made a little spending money at university by cleaning hamster cages in that basement with another student, who I never got to know, and in a moment you’ll know why.
On the first Saturday evening we were both working together, I spied a huge brown insect coming out from under a bank of hamster cages. Alarmed at its size, I promptly stepped on it, thinking that was the end of it. How could I have known cockroaches could flatten to the thickness of a piece of paper? To my chagrin, the moment I stepped off of it, this unknown bug came to life and sought the closest place of cover it could find—my pant leg. I shrieked alarming the shy, young man at the other end of the room who came out to see what the matter was. What he saw was me dropping “trou” as fast as I could, totally preoccupied with getting the roach out of my pants. I think I frightened that fellow even more than the roach frightened me, for he lit out of there with a speed that would have impressed the roach, and I never saw him again.
Imagine what went on inside me, when I realized I was living in a place where roaches were so prevalent, I could swear they had their own little crossing guard on the street in front of our house. One evening of late, Bert, my husband, a southerner, came out to see what I was doing in the kitchen. No longer willing to kill creatures on a whim, I explained I’d started the Carson Relocation Services. I was catching them and dumping them in the backyard, hoping to get back to the house before they did. “And right this moment,” I replied, “I just finished naming the ones I couldn’t catch. That one there is Tony.”
Well, I don’t know what you do with your spare time, but as for mine, I can now sing three verses of La Cucaracha while displaying the tolerance of a Buddhist for the ever growing list of creatures with which I share my house.