They stopped the jeep at the side of the road, already two miles off the main highway, a cloud of dust around them, unwilling or unable to settle again. The fields were parched, the sky a pale blue canvas on which nothing was drawn. A tree sat in the distance, and behind it, a winding row of bushes, marking the edge of the property.
Marvin shifted the cigar to the other side of his mouth, swung the bag over his shoulder, and stomped down the embankment, shovel dragging behind him. The...
Published on May 24, 2010 12:01