Special Feature: a Triptych by Charmaine Wilkerson
Before the shouting starts, you hear the baritone bell on the far side of the canyon. A dog joins in with a howl, cutting through thechili-chili-chili of the morning birds and the gurgle of the fridge and the flick of your dental floss. Now you hear what sounds like arguing next door and a wooden clap-clapand a woman shrieking. You go to the window, its frame blonde with dust and already hot to the touch. As you lower the shade, you hear a child cry out. You feel a mantle of heat pressing in on the house.
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