“I want you to buy me a knapsack,”
that would belong only to her. When it no
she told him, “Just like the one that the
longer made sense to hope, she turned
farmer’s daughter has, only bigger and
to self-pity then rage. The calf had taken
blue instead of green. Can you remember
advantage of her, had spent her precious
that?” The calf had tucked the money
money on a bus ticket and boarded
into his cheek before being led out of the
thinking, so long, sucker.
barn. “And wouldn’t you know it,” the cow later complained, “Isn’t it just my luck that he never came back?”
It was a consolation then to overhear the farmer talking to his wife and learn that taking an animal into town was a
She’d spent the first few days of his
euphemism for hitting him in the head
absence in a constant, almost giddy,
with an electric hammer. So long, sucker.
state of anticipation. Watching the barn door, listening for the sound of the truck, waiting for that knapsack, something
P H O T O G R A P H Y B Y S T E P H E N H A M I LT O N
Published on Nov 21, 2013
Blending the worlds of food and photography, the magazine features travel stories and recipes from top food writers, as well as styling tips...