Mudcat Café message #2462646 The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #113933   Message #2462646
Posted By: Amos
10-Oct-08 - 08:35 PM
Thread Name: Fiction : The Dead Man's Guitar
Subject: RE: Fiction : The Dead Man's Guitar
She slipped out onto the bent, sloping porch just before sunrise, wearing her down jacket against the chill, her least-tattered jeans. a sturdy woolen shirt of red and black plaid, and a white bandanna covering her head and tying back her long silver hair. The moon was low, the sun still coming. It made no sense to lock anything, and she pulled the door with a sense of finality. She had done this before, when the paths opened to her on the far side, and she had never gone wrong. She turned her back on the creaky double-wide and made her way to the rusty Chevy pickup under the pepper tree, threw her single bag into it, checked her spirit pouch under her shirt on its leather thong, and fired the smoky V8 up.
She had to get a move on, she knew. It was seventy miles to the Greyhound station. She swerved out of the dirt drive onto the gravel-top county road that ran under the shadows of the mountains, and she did not look back, not once.