Sioux City, IA: What if I die here?

You know you could, Jenny says, and it would be OK

A crow calls at dawn at our attic window. Down the block, a second crow calls back.

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Morning chimes of the farmer’s market: acoustic guitar, amped gently in a parking lot. The country dude sings his covers in a striving baritone. What if die here? Who’ll be my role model, now that my role model is gone?

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Past the music tent a mom pushes a stroller, a tact…