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Author’s Note: On the first afternoon, I came upon a brook and followed its babble for two or three hours. On the second, I stayed inside as the storm came and the grass shook and the trees cracked and the cattle howled. On the third, I watched hawks circle from...

When we were younger, O was certain that he would die on the streets of New Orleans, stabbed in the back in a drug deal gone bad or as the crescendo of a star-crossed love affair or maybe just because sometimes a good man needs to end violently to maintain...