April 1996 The sound of the rolling cart approached his cell for what seemed like hours, stopping at 30-second intervals for each inmate to make a haphazard selection. He hadn’t accepted a book yet in his few weeks at the penitentiary, but a sense of solace beckoned...
The dust cloud extended hundreds of yards out in front of them, like a lingering jet stream hovering just above ground. A rusted, old pickup truck rounded the high sand dune next to them and within seconds was pulling up next to the traveling caravan. The window...
The sound of forks clanking against porcelain overtook the tiny mobile home kitchen. Tim added more pepper to his ribeye and pulled his chair a little closer to the table, clearing his throat. “Cindy, what would it be like crossing the desert up to Elko?” he inquired,...
The high noon sun beat down on the pack string with a blaze of August heat. Nearing the edge of the Redwoods the trees were beginning to scatter farther apart now providing less amounts of shade. Tim’s green, plaid shirt clung to his back in a pool of sweat. The crew...
The train tracks seemed to stretch on endlessly ahead as Tim led the pack string onward. The Redwoods towered high above them, keeping them from direct sun exposure. The cool, woodsy breeze felt more like October than the usual August, dry heat they were accustomed to...
