The town was positioned in a narrow valley between three sizable mountains and innumerable hills and shelves and finger hollows that ribboned out from the valley floor like veins.
We had not visited Pops since Josh was born three years before, and as we came over the last hill, down into Medgar on that Saturday, the citizens stared at us like they were watching color TV for the first time. A fat woman in red stretch pants dragging a screaming child stopped suddenly; the child jounced into her back. Two men in eager discussion over an open car hood turned in silence, hands on hips, Booth four at Biddle’s Gas and Grub immediately discontinued their debate about proper planting cycles and launched wild speculation about the origin and destination of the blue station wagon with suitcases and a bike bundled onto the luggage rack. People just didn’t move into eastern Kentucky back then.
- The Secret Wisdom of the Earth by Christopher Scotton
John Hart writes that “Christopher Scotton’s effort defies easy description. Contemplative one minute and racing the next, it swept me to the last page and left me there with a single thought: Atticus Finch meets Deliverance.