“But then I’ve always been good at saving face. I was ashamed of my little venture into the big bad world. My stomach tightened as I drove home. We have photos of jack rabbit hunts at the society. Men stood proudly behind a mesa of rabbits neatly stacked as high as the roof of a porch. Clubbed to death. Years ago, it was a form of recreation second only to wolf hunts in general popularity. The children watched, and the womenfolk served pie afterward. I have pictures of children watching public h...angings. They, too, were family affairs. Occasions for picnics. “Can you kill someone, Lottie?” I was free to cry now. “Not even a rabbit,” I whispered softly. There was no one to see my shame. Our farmstead is chock full of guns. We have shotguns and rifles. Hunting is a way of life. Two of Keith’s daughters, Angie and Bettina, hunt game. Surprisingly, Elizabeth does not and I never do. Don’t know how, don’t want to learn. I turned on the radio and was assaulted with information about the newest murder in Western Kansas.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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