Clutching his silver goblet, our nameless, very-well rested hostage was almost chirpy, insisting he had a brother in law in the next town he could call on for a ride. But Sawyer shook his head when the time came to abandon him in the dark. “No…no it’s not right to take this. Can you drop us at the border? Keep the truck.” “From here, your nearest pack is Rising Star?” “That works just fine,” Sawyer replied. Walking through the night, keeping away from the towns and villages, Sawyer found us fresh water to drink, before killing and cooking a fish over a small fire. I’m probably endlessly naive, but to me, it was a perfect night. Because finally, there was not a single obstruction to just being with Sawyer. The man who patiently explained how you can catch a fish bare-handed. Explaining why he purposely ignored one section of the river, walking another mile upstream. I said nothing when he stripped to his underwear to stand in the shallows. I whooped and laughed instead when
Read more