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Scott Nicholson Scott Nicholson lives in the rural Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where he eats possum, drinks moonshine, and occasion-ally sets down a tall tale while wearing dirty longhandles. His novels include The Farm, The Home, The Manor, The Harvest, and The Red Church. Look for his story "Good Fences" in Shivers V. Visit www.hauntedcomputer.com for dubious folk wisdom and even more dubious writing advice. T he final breakfast was scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, grits with real butter. Alison peeled four extra strips of bacon from the slab. On this morning of all mornings, she would keep the temperature of the stove eye just right. She wasn't the cook of the house, but Robert had taught her all about Southern cuisine, especially that of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Before they met, her breakfast consisted of a cup of what Robert teasingly called a "girly French coffee" and maybe a yogurt. He'd introduced her to the joys of an unhealthy start to the morning, along with plenty of other things, the best of the rest coming after sundown. Even after two years, Alison wasn't as enthusiastic about the morning cholesterol infusion as Robert was. Or his dog. About once a week, though, she'd get up a half-hour early, drag the scarred skillet from beneath the counter, and peel |
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