Up at Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide, there was another story (look there goes another one, just like the other one), with a woman stranger.
But that one will have to wait.
I’m back now. It’s over, except for the part about getting my truck out of hock from the airport. It’s over except for a couple of van tires that don’t exist yet; maybe another five hour wait so that someone else can collect another five hundred dollars. Small stuff. Chicken feed.
The cats were all still alive.
The, uh, abyss is $758 deeper, four hundred on the one card and three on t’other, gasoline and epic bars, but it could have been worse. It’s not $7500.
All said and done I got forty dollars and two packs to get me through til payday.
And that’s with the water bill paid, too.
It’ll do.
Still sometimes you know