Ferguson, Brittani

English

Denison University

Exile Volume 57 Number 1 Article 4 2011 The Dusty Italian Dugout Brittani Ferguson Denison University Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile  Part of the Creative Writing Commons Recommended Citation Ferguson, Brittani (2011) "The Dusty Italian Dugout," Exile: Vol. 57 : No. 1 , Article 4. Available at: https://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol57/iss1/4 This Article is brought to you for free and open access by the English at Denison Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Exile by an authorized editor of Denison Digital Commons. BRITTANI FERGUSON That Dusty Italian Dugout The smell of dirt kicked Up into dust, filling the air. Wooden benches lined The dugout, white paint Peeling off the edges. His beard felt harsh Against my cheek, his Fingers calloused. I remember the concrete Against my back, the dirt In the air, lining my throat. The sound of his zipper, Metal teeth sliding apart, His hand on my wrist, Rough and demanding, Coarse hair against my fingers. 62 I don't remember his face, But I can feel him sometimes , Heavy on top of me, Breath in my ear and Hot on my neck, whispering Reassurances and Begging me not to tell. I can still see the outline Of that dusty Italian dugout, Cockroaches hiding in the Grooves of the cement blocks And mosquitoes hovering next to my skin. 63 

The Dusty Italian Dugout

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The Dusty Italian Dugout

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