He is too young to be out here on the corner of Highway 3 and El Dorado. He can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen, standing on the median holding a white poster board sign with a smiley face drawn in yellow and black poster paint.Read More
Willy stared out at the road ahead while Mayo drove and Winona snored fitfully in the back seat behind him. The two-lane stretched endlessly eastward, and spun away behind them like a long-assed piece of flying concrete, while Willy’s red Ford hummed across the great American Desert, rose up through Arizona Canyons and into what used to be Apache Territory, “Want me to drive awhile?” he asked.Read More
Together, without saying a word, we scramble half-way down the hill, and take a path to our left that takes us straight to the wires. We can see the highway a couple hundred yards from us, but there’s no sign of Kreb, Pru, or the car.Read More
“Look what I found!” Alan called out. First thing that morning, Alan had burst through the door with supplies from Noreen’s. Zip and I were just waking up, rummaging under the kitchen counter for the steel coffee pot. Alan was...Read More
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