I pulled over to the shoulder, put the Chevy in PARK, and was out before the dust had even begun to settle. The day was muggy and close and still, the clouds seeming low enough to touch. The kid—a little blondie with a snub nose and scabbed knees—stood on the white line as if it were a tightrope and watched me approach with no more fear than a fawn.
@Bag of Bones ▫𓂃
(echo:: @ ⌗)