She’d tell these stories…whoppers…big old flat out lies bout herself…said she was connected to some kind of Southern aristocracy…folks long ago owned pieces of land in Georgia…Alabama…a few hundred acres in Mississippi…told tales of white girls in lace bein’ escorted by young men in flannel suits with colorful handkerchiefs tucked away in their upper pocket…straw hats with broad brims to protect em from the sun…women walked with parasols…said she used to watch em down by the lake…out on the water…rowin’ from one end to the other…smiles on their faces…

Told stories bout the many men who’d come callin’ on her…young men with college degrees…military uniforms…tellin’ her she looked so lovely with her auburn hair and cream colored skin…she turned em away by the hundreds…enough to fill out a flank of the Confederate army…said she was somethin’…really somethin’…

And she’d sit in that corner all day tellin’ these stories…till it was time for rest…nurses would hand her medications they said helped with her memory…then tuck her in bed where she’d dream throughout the night…dreams of bein’ taken away to the promised land…singin’ songs all day long to the Lord almighty…praisin’ his name…hallelujah…hallelujah…hallelujah…you’d hear her mumble throughout the night…

She wanted to see those streets of gold…that’s what she longed for…that’s what she wanted to see…she was done with her old body…her used mind…it was time to start anew…time to start anew…a Southern plantation in heaven…that’s all she wanted…