Mississippi Market Bulletin Subscription Now

Myra just smiled. “Honey, in Claiborne County, a conspiracy is just another word for community. Now are you going to take my eighteen checks, or am I driving them to the Jackson Clarion-Ledger and telling them you lost your best rural market?”

“Eighteen dollars,” Myra said. “Cash or check. No cards.” mississippi market bulletin subscription

Trevor handed her two tens. “Keep the change. And put me down for a copy too. But don’t tell my boss.” Myra just smiled

Myra slid the metal recipe box toward him. “These are my people,” she said. “Cash or check

“You’re number eighteen now,” Myra said, adding Earlene’s name. “I print the online listings every Tuesday night on my home printer. Staple ’em together. Mail ’em out Wednesday morning.”

Trevor flipped through the cards. Eighteen names. Eighteen addresses. Eighteen small-town Mississippians who would sooner give up cornbread than a paper bulletin.

“Only if they catch me,” Myra said. “And so far, the only person reading the Bulletin in Jackson is some twenty-two-year-old digital coordinator named Trevor who thinks a ‘broiler house’ is a dorm for fraternity brothers.”