Ain't no such word as "slomp" Jessey had scolded me just yesterday. But a crawdad pokin' outta the deep mud ditch alongside the river always made kind of a slomp sound to my ears. That's how you knew it was exactly the right time to scoop your butterfly net down real quick an' haul yourself up a good meal. Then you'd run home with your thatched willow bark basket slung over your shoulder full to the brim with squirmin' crawdads ready to throw into that huge boilin' pot of water hitched over the flames. But tonight in my willow basket there were no crawdads headin' home for a boil as my bare