Those of you that read this irregular series know that I am from Hackett, Arkansas, just a mile of so from the Oklahoma border, and just about 10 miles south of the Arkansas River. It was a redneck sort of place, and just zoom onto my previous posts to understand a bit about it.
I never write about living people except with their express permission, so this installment is about a long dead denizen of Hackett.
Arthur was not a nice man, by any means. When I was around 10 years old, I would guess that he was around 45, give or take. I suspect that he looked well over his real age, because he pretty much abused himself.
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