‘When it’s liver night, always know you goin’ to bed hungry. Ain’t enough ketchup in the world.’
‘Better than brussel sprouts.’ Another boy, dark-skinned, but might’ve just been tan in the weakened light, said this as he reeled in one of the lines real slow.
‘Might as well have Mama serve ‘em together, get ‘em out the way and into the trash.’
‘Sure enough. Hell, my hound dog Charlie won’t even touch that slop.’ Seemed we had all come to an agreement.
‘Can I put wood on your fire?’
‘If you can find it, throw it on. We ain’t got no license on it.’ I went huntin’ back into the tree line half blind due to the nightfall, but succeeded in draggin’ over a log bigger than me. Put one end in—just dipped the toes. One could feed it in all night like a cartoon pig eatin’ a corn cob down the line
