Friday, August 12, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #159



Hawk Season Notebook #159

Had the ambition, she said, but you know.... Behind her was a square powder-white place with a rain-stained front door. It had been a small-congregation country church. The wooden front steps were broken and kicked aside and replaced with cinder blocks. Across a dusty yellowish road was an abandoned 1970's sheet metal confinement hog operation. Traveled a bit, but I'm still intact. In her middle thirties, scrawny with stringy brown hair streaked blonde, dressed in sort of a thrift store prom dress, she was walking circles on a patchy lawn, watching surveyors up the road. Bastards are making marks. Smell the turpentine on 'em. Ever'body tryin' to catch a dollar. In a few days, semis with trailers would bring bulldozers and a portable module office for a construction company. She looked back at her place, grinned and waved at a little kid holding an empty wire bird cage against a filmy window.

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