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269 Stoning It fits. It lets my fingers act like fingers as I flex my aging bones around a stone that’s been the same for years, for centuries, forever. Sledged or morselized, it multiplies like grief. Cradled in a sling and flung, it brings Goliaths to their knees. Even in Genesis its purpose was foretold when Cain “rose up” against his twin and cracked his skull. And this continues. In Persia by another name a woman “taken in adultery” faces execution for her sin. A ring of men surrounds her like a closing noose. Hooded and buried upright to her breasts, she waits for “one without fault”—her very brother—“to cast the first stone.” Once thrown, think blood, think bone. ...

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