Regular readers know I love a first paragraph I can see, feel, taste, hear, smell or touch. Well, here is another killer example.

"IT WAS AUGUST, so she had to bury him quick. Soon she would be able to smell him, a thing she didn’t know if she could endure—not the live, biting odor he brought in from a day in the fields but a mixture of turned earth and rot, an odor she associated with decaying possum and coon carcasses, the bowl of a turtle she’d overturned as a girl and then tumbled away from, vomiting at the soup of maggots pulsing inside."

Yeah, I'm gonna keep reading.

Taken from Tom Franklin's, Christians 1887.