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I’m sorry. I may have ruined the secret disembodied foot at Golden’s Rock Rest Lodge.

By Andrew Kenney

Several men crowded against the wall of a bar, staring into the space between paintings of hunting dogs and a woman in repose. They saw something there — I couldn’t tell what — that distracted them from the crush of college kids and the pails of chicken wings, from the beer-dispensing rhinoceros head and the rest of the ridiculous glitz that covers the Rock Rest Lodge…  Read more…