09/04/2026
I was sitting under the awning outside the store, sipping on a coffee and watching the tumbleweed drift by on the street in front of me. I was about to open "This is Your Mind on Plants" to where I left off, when a yellow '73 Pinto pulled up An old man in a battered Stetson and a weathered leather vest got out, He moseyed over in my direction and dropped onto the seat beside me.
"Morning" I greeted him.
He nodded, then pulled out a small bag of chewing to***co from his vest, pinched a bit out of it, then stuffed it into his mouth.
"This here's a ghost town."
"Yup. How'd you get the hole in your hat?"
"Luck. Damn fool was blind in one eye, and couldn't see out of t'other. You got any books by the Master?"
"Shakespeare?"
"No. Zane Grey."
"I probably have a few,: I replied.
"Good to know."
We waited in silence for a moment.
"You want to take a look inside?"
"Maybe next time."
He chewed loudly and the minutes passed.
"What happened? The stagecoach stopped coming?"
"No. No stagecoach."
"They close the train station? "
"Decades ago."
"What did it?"
"Road Construction."
The old-timer nodded in a way that indicated he seemed to understand.
"Know any place around here you can buy a sarsaparilla?"
"I don't."
"It's back to the ranch for me, then."
With that, he stood up and headed back to his car.
"Be seein' you, pard'ner," he said, touching the brim of his hat.
"Adios, amigo."
With that, he got into his Pinto, started it up, and drove in the direction of the impending sunset, towards the sign that read "Road Closed".