Legend

The mine drowned the holler, many reallocated to trailer parks along the Interstate. The school dwindled, ran out of children became a garage for dead trucks, then a beer barn, then a Meth lab, bubbling feuds resurfaced - shotguns aimed at open secrets. Oxycontin mules crisscrossed cricks. After the sheriff left with a bag of money the missing went unreported. The ‘Craft’ (a legend as ancient as flint arrowheads), emerged from clapboard covens ginseng and moonshine were sacrificed for white powder. Glocks flourished among the Hummel’s. Traditions persisted like red paint on wooden signs. An outbreak of opaque cottage industries, led to skins inked with blood oaths. Old women retreated into the mountains with their recipes. Spirals of distant smoke rose from iron cooking pots, no one spoke of the children.