Cindy Manning

“The river speaks a language, something one isn’t born knowing but has to learn. I learned it from my dad. Some of it is wisdom, some of it skill. Some of it is the quirks and tendencies of a natural beast—the ebb and flow, the up and down, the flood draining down to a trickle. It’s all part of the river’s story, which it’s always willing to tell.”
― McCaid Paul, Dead River

“Whenever I get so lonesome that my chest starts to ache, I open a book and read. I’ve found that reading cures nearly everything: boredom, loneliness, even anger. What’s great about books is that they’re reliable; they’re safe. Life changes, but the words in the books stay the same.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas

“It’s nearly nightfall, the vast evening sky as resplendent and intricate as that quilt hanging from the wooden knob on the side of Grandma’s dresser. This sky is like the work of a seamstress, sown tangerine-orange, raspberry-pink, and dappled with cream-white clouds for an extra touch, the finished product so lush and vibrant that I could gape at it for hours.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas

“I wish I had more time,” Grandpa says finally, the words a whisper. “Seventy years sounds like forever when you’re young, doesn’t it? But it’s not. It’s just a blink. Really no time at all.” He pauses. “But I can’t think of any better way to spend the last of it than with you.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas