Chapter One
Her death has made us numb. Dora, the great bellied woman, lies frozen in the
ground. And like some part we've lost to frostbite, our minds still reach for
her. The men of the village wear a wandering look in their eyes. They forget
their work, leave their tools lying idle, drink to excess, then roam like dogs
until they drop in the mud. Even the women are uneasy, for though she was one
of us, we could never hope to fill her shoes. The great bellied woman, with her
door wide hips and plate sized breasts, was more woman than we could ever be.
We even envied her belly: her great, laden belly, filled with the fruits of her
whoring.
She left behind the boy, the giant boy, her only child. He is built like an ox,
just as she was, though he is slow of speech, and some say also of thought. But
this is unfair for he is not yet a man, but a boy of eleven trapped in a man's
body. She christened him Joha ...
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