PROMISE BREAKERS
My Body Isn’t Made For Secrets: It Leaks
Here’s a juicy one…
In the little town where I grew up, there’s a huge hill with a dead guy on top.
The hill is called Hiram’s Mountain. The dead guy is called Hiram.
It’s his mountain.
Fields cover this great elevation. When you stand up there, you can see everywhere, and Hiram was proud of this.
I like pretending he didn’t smoke or drink or thrill kill anyone. He didn’t need to. All he had to do was stand on his hill, spin in slow circles, looking as far as the eye could see, and he’d be tripping balls.
He was so nuts about the view and his possession of the view that he said for many years, “When I die, bury me on the tippy top.”
“Oh, you mean like the hill is your pyramid and you’re the Pharaoh of Maine?”
“Is that a compliment or an insult? I don’t read. I work.”
“Compliment?”
“Then yes, I am this thing you say, whatever it is, as long as it’s the best farmer in the world.”
