by Do South | Nov 1, 2018 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] My mama has been hit by lightning, so my tore-up leg holds little interest to her. “Go wash,” is all she says when I stumble through the front door, a bandana wrapped around the gash, still shaky from the...
by Do South | Oct 1, 2018 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Twenty-three-year-old Bessie Turner grabs her keys from a hook by her front door and holds them to her chest for a few seconds. The light here is dim, but outside, this October day is all red leaves and...
by Do South | Aug 31, 2018 | Issues
by Do South | Jul 31, 2018 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] The story goes that when I was born, my daddy didn’t especially cotton to me. I had this head full of black hair, for one thing, in a family so blond we looked like we belonged on a hillside singing...
by Do South | Jul 1, 2018 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”Fiction: Marla Cantrell”][/title] I’m driving past Gregory Cemetery on a day in July when the heat has already topped one hundred degrees. That doesn’t stop the ladies who come every morning bearing tin-foil-covered jars that hold roses...
