The Patroller of Our Dirt Road
It didn’t matter what time of day I took my walks, at some point Moses’s purple Ford Ranger would always pass by, and he’d lazily wave his cigarette out the window like an extension of his hand, the smoke unfurling
It didn’t matter what time of day I took my walks, at some point Moses’s purple Ford Ranger would always pass by, and he’d lazily wave his cigarette out the window like an extension of his hand, the smoke unfurling