October 25th, 2021
I had my doubts.
Walking through the loose gravel, tall grass, and wet leaves that constituted the "driveway" behind Ronnie and Arya's barn, I surveyed the slope, plotted the trajectory, and did the math. Short, but steep. Doable... but dicey.
Because otherwise, I would be camping in their backyard and digging holes or asking to use their bathroom for a few more days. Whether they liked it or not.
I'd had less concerns the day before; descending the abrupt little drop into the field in the glorious dry and sunshine of a later October day. But constant and heavy rain that had rolled in last night was changing the narrative.
I'd been warned, of course. Arya had given my van a wary look and pursed her lips, inquiring if I had four wheel drive. While Ronnie had just given me a dulcet and promising "oh, you'll be fine," waving his hand dismissively, and invoking a name from the past in the form of an "encouraging" anecdote about how her van had "no problem" when she and her new boyfriend had recently visited.
My right eye betrayed only the smallest of twitches.
With my foot, I raked layers of slick, wet leaves out of the way, then once again mentally visualized my course up and out and into the blind turn of the quiet but not un-busy road on which they live.
Then I walked back to the idling van, buckled up, accelerated toward the crux....
and prayed my timing was good.
Then, just over one year later, I abandoned this and started a whole new blog for some reason.
No, YOU read it.
|Lauren Cat West.|
|Jarrod Bunk of Hope.|
Jeff Frane of Wilde.
|Many a extralight Rene Herse tire succumbed on this section.|
|Ron and his dream pool.|
|This show is literally bonkers.|
|Ronnie's Murder Barn|