- Vol. 03
- Chapter 04
Image by Grant Wood
As Clean as Wright’s Coal Tar Soap
I know a woman who actually cleans the dirt off a bar of soap. Her husband is a clean man, too; always smells of Wright’s Coal Tar. Spends his days on knobbly knees planting seed against the will of God’s own wind. His only mistress is the land — widely indifferent to his wife, who dreams of the day when his manhood ploughs more than silty soil. And there they stand, the strangest of company, waiting for the other to make a first move.