Joyce Carol Oates, “The Hunter”

“Liam Gavin I was named, yet there was a being deep inside Liam Gavin who could not be named. This being had never been baptized in any church. No woman had sung lullabies to him cradling him in her arms.

This being seemed to reside in my eyes, I thought. Sometimes in the region of my heart. Sometimes in my belly. And sometimes between my hard-muscled legs.

Between my legs, a fist-like thing that grew rigid and angry with sudden blood.

This thing had no name. It came of a time before there were names, or even words. Before God spoke with a human tongue.”

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