Fiction | December 01, 2006

This story is currently not available online.

Our lives recall the textual. For one winter of my adult life, my father and I lived in a farmhouse in Boone County, Illinois. This was 1999. My father, Asel Poole, was dying of lymphoma. My wife and I had separated. The earth wintered; the air turned sharp with cold; the fields stretched expansively in white.

If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.