Monday, March 24, 2014

On The Way

This evening Brian wears his cravat of cornflower blue striped by golden cables.  "You can drop me right here," she said to the driver.  "I can walk the rest of the way just fine."  The pickup truck ground to a stop on the dirt road and she grabbed her bag and hopped down.  Waving, she watched it disappear into the horizon.  In a few moments, there was silence.  She was surrounded by sun and sky and heavy, bobbing waves of wheat. She looked at it with a practiced eye; in about two weeks it would be in storage.  The dust from her ride had settled, and she wandered into the rows.  Setting her bag down, she drew out a flowered dress and some wet wipes.  Hurriedly, she took off her jeans and tee and shook off the travel.  She gave herself a quick bath among the wheat with the towelettes and put on the dress.  Pulling on her boots, then packing up her stuff, she looked around to make sure all was as before.  Emerging, she regained the path and walked on.