The Marsh Dispatches

I have a lot of thoughts about Jubal County. And a lot of them, there isn't really any place for them to go in the stories. 99% of readers probably don't want to hear Marsh stop mid-mystery to ramble about his views on armadillos and sharks. But, if you are that reader that would love that, well boy howdy are you in luck! I have started writing these thoughts whenever they come up, and am posting them on my Patreon. Each is a mini rant/ramble by Howard Marsh giving richer insight into his warped mind, and to Jubal County at large. To give you a taste, here is the very first, reprinted here for your enjoyment. If you want more, it's only 2 bucks a month to support me on Patreon (which also has a number of other short stories and the like that I have written):

Sharks and Armadillos.

I hate a damn armadillo.

To be clear, not one in particular, I hate them all equally. Did you know they carry leprosy? Yep. I don’t care who you are, ain’t nobody want them a case of leprosy.

Did you know when they get scared they jump straight up? Try straddling one with your car, and the little bastards are liable to pop right up and crack your oil pan. Try explaining that to your insurance company. I mean I’ve never had insurance, so I wouldn’t know exactly, but I bet it wouldn’t be easy.

I once went to the Armadillo Round Up in Red Level. I reckon the powers that be in Red Level saw all the success Opp was having with their Rattlesnake Rodeo, an equally dumb idea to my mind, and wanted to be the next big thing in southeast Alabama.

They had three armadillos. And one of them was missing half its tail.

Two and 3/5ths armadillos do not a round up make, at least not to my mind. It was about the most pitiful sight you ever did see, the critters sitting there in the traps that had no doubt been used to catch them. They actually seemed pretty zen about the whole thing, all things considered.

I only went because as pitiful as it was, it was still more happening than anything going on in Jubal County. Even if I did absolutely hate the grubby lil shits, it was something to do. I got a funnel cake out of it thanks to Krista, so it wasn’t a complete loss.

And so that brings me to my point, in the most roundabout way possible: I hate armadillos, but I cannot stop thinking about them sometimes. They are goddamn fascinating. I hate them, but I read about them a lot. One of my favorite things is a small porcelain armadillo statue that I scored from the Christian Mission drop box. I can’t help it. As much as think they are about the worst critter ever, they are equally fascinating.

Same thing goes for sharks. You will never catch my ass in the ocean. I don’t care that I am far more likely to die from the drugs I take on the daily. Or lightning strikes for that matter. Or basically anything else. Don’t matter. I ain’t getting in the water, because I hate a damn shark too.

But damned if I won’t watch every shark movie I can get my hands on. And I will read pretty much anything with some scary shit from the ocean in it. Cause I hate it, but I love it too.

And you know, I think that says something important. Something about the nature of fear and love and hate. How they can all blend together into a toxic soup that brings out the best and worst of each other. How at the core of each emotion, there are little seeds of all the others.

So I say all this, to make the case that Armadillos should be called possum-on-the-half-shellfish.

You’re welcome.

PATREON LINK!