A few trees leaned heavily over the road, and one that had fallen had to be climbed over. Ralph had said the road was long, and he was right. The road stretched out into the distance, with no habitation in sight. No mountain lions, as far as I could tell. I could see no tire tracks, but then what vehicle could make it down this track? There were a few mystery paw prints, but they were small. I got out of the car without a backward glance at Hiram and set off walking. Huge clumps of tall weeds rose like mountains between them. Potholes so deep they looked like ponds stretched out as far as the eye could see. I knew I’d found it when I was unable to drive down it. Asking for directions was a non-starter, so I drove down one rutted country road after another before I found the one I was looking for. Instead of returning home, once I was back in Lovingston I began to search for the Donkins’ place. If Harm wanted to be invisible, he could sit and sulk in the backseat while I did them. From the rough draft of Chance Encounters, by Pat Otterness
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