Seeds of Fury: The Discarded Wife's Rise

thought about gracing the manicured

th my few remaining clothes and the carved w

e echoed in my ears. "You're ungrateful,

y youth, my love, my gr

a life I no longer belonged to, I thought about his accusation. Ungrateful. He, who h

I climbed aboard, finding

trip malls, then fields, then the famil

iana.

hick, humid, smelling of d

weathered, nestled by the bayou. The porch sagged a litt

away the dust of neglect, airing out the scent of

ened the w

several small, cloth-wrapped packets a

the smoky-sweet Piment d'Espelette my grandmother grew. Others were strange, their colors and

r spidery French

resilience. Plant them. Nurture them. They will feed you, body and soul. The bayou is your heart. Never forge

me they weren't of sorrow

y but serviceable. I cleared a patch of land behi

nd botany over the years, late at night, when Ethan was out and Chl

ndmother had taught me, feeling a connection to

o. A quiet boy, new to the area, his family immigrants from Central America. He had a passion for plants, his eyes l

s Spanish mixed with my halting Cajun French and

t. Tiny green shoots, push

begi