Ten-Sentence Story #8
Country Roads
There are more than 100,000 people per square mile living in Manila. In Seattle, imagine a sold-out Seahawks game or Sounders match but no one goes home and 30,000 more people build shacks outside the stadium. This, of course, never happens in Eastern Washington where Spokane, the biggest city, has less than 4,000 people per square mile. Drive outside the city limits and you get a feel for the way things once were. Drive outside the city limits for a while, and you’ll get a feel for the way things once were a long, long time ago. That’s where we were: a few miles from Canada in the land of wolves, moose, elk, independent-thinking humans and a Walmart with deer and RVs in the parking lot. The weathered sign, painted in red and nailed to an enormous cedar, read “Park here if you have a good mechanic.” The next sign, nailed to a Ponderosa Pine, read “Stop! I’m armed.” Six inches to the east, a cock-eyed, rusted barbed wire split-rail fence cut north and south. Our “guide” smiled and said “Hasn’t changed a bit.”
Copyright 2014 by Robert R. Mitchell
Like? Give my novel a shot:
http://www.amazon.com/Only-Shot-At-Go...
There are more than 100,000 people per square mile living in Manila. In Seattle, imagine a sold-out Seahawks game or Sounders match but no one goes home and 30,000 more people build shacks outside the stadium. This, of course, never happens in Eastern Washington where Spokane, the biggest city, has less than 4,000 people per square mile. Drive outside the city limits and you get a feel for the way things once were. Drive outside the city limits for a while, and you’ll get a feel for the way things once were a long, long time ago. That’s where we were: a few miles from Canada in the land of wolves, moose, elk, independent-thinking humans and a Walmart with deer and RVs in the parking lot. The weathered sign, painted in red and nailed to an enormous cedar, read “Park here if you have a good mechanic.” The next sign, nailed to a Ponderosa Pine, read “Stop! I’m armed.” Six inches to the east, a cock-eyed, rusted barbed wire split-rail fence cut north and south. Our “guide” smiled and said “Hasn’t changed a bit.”
Copyright 2014 by Robert R. Mitchell
Like? Give my novel a shot:
http://www.amazon.com/Only-Shot-At-Go...
Published on May 17, 2014 22:58
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