So glad the piece made you think about deserts, Paul. It's amazing, really, how many stories come from deserts. Could be nice for you to reflect on that one!
I love how you remember the little things - which in hindsight are the important things- from your life's experiences. as only a great writer can, I suppose!
That detail of him uniquely not wanting to separate from his bag was the tell. I suppose I could have thought he was moving drugs, but that never entered my mind. He had the weapon, and for some reason, I was certain of it. There is so much about those days--the details, as you say--that I hope will stay with me. Thank you, as always, for your generous comment, Tabby.
Harrowing! I'm wondering why he felt the need to prove the point to you "if you don't hurt me, I won't hurt you." Where'd he get the idea, by your behavior at the time, that you were going to hurt him. He took more of a chance (pardon) of being hurt if you decided to crash. He was crazy!
Those were his exact words. At the time, I was a 145 pound 18 or 19 year old and far from threatening. I'm not sure what he was thinking. Needless to say, I didn't pursue the conversation any further than I needed. Thanks for reading, Sue!
I didn't want to feel so relieved when I dropped him off, but I did. There were many ways that encounter could have gone very wrong. I still think about Chance. Glad the piece spoke to you, Ellen.
It sure did, Damon. There was an internal *gulp* with the appearance of the firearm that carried through the story. It was a leap of faith for you that panned out. I'm so glad!
Good piece. I also think about the stories that come out of deserts. I'm going to read it again. Thanks, Damon. Thank you.
So glad the piece made you think about deserts, Paul. It's amazing, really, how many stories come from deserts. Could be nice for you to reflect on that one!
I love how you remember the little things - which in hindsight are the important things- from your life's experiences. as only a great writer can, I suppose!
That detail of him uniquely not wanting to separate from his bag was the tell. I suppose I could have thought he was moving drugs, but that never entered my mind. He had the weapon, and for some reason, I was certain of it. There is so much about those days--the details, as you say--that I hope will stay with me. Thank you, as always, for your generous comment, Tabby.
Harrowing! I'm wondering why he felt the need to prove the point to you "if you don't hurt me, I won't hurt you." Where'd he get the idea, by your behavior at the time, that you were going to hurt him. He took more of a chance (pardon) of being hurt if you decided to crash. He was crazy!
Those were his exact words. At the time, I was a 145 pound 18 or 19 year old and far from threatening. I'm not sure what he was thinking. Needless to say, I didn't pursue the conversation any further than I needed. Thanks for reading, Sue!
Beautiful piece, eerie & thought-provoking. I was happy to see Chance leave the hero's company. Great exploration of a world unknown to me.
I didn't want to feel so relieved when I dropped him off, but I did. There were many ways that encounter could have gone very wrong. I still think about Chance. Glad the piece spoke to you, Ellen.
It sure did, Damon. There was an internal *gulp* with the appearance of the firearm that carried through the story. It was a leap of faith for you that panned out. I'm so glad!