Elevator jazz assaulted my ear as the phone pressed against it. An occasional disembodied syrupy voice interrupted, "Your expected wait time is two minutes." I was borrowing my neighbor's landline since the cell service in this valley is non-existent. A man with a thick Indian accent piped through from somewhere far away, "Hello and thanks for calling Frontier; how can I help you?"
Read MoreI am alone, standing on the side of a two-lane blacktop road feeling lost. The white line painted on the asphalt at my feet stretches for miles to the north. I hear a distant hum behind me to the south. A black car approaches and slows down, stopping on the road in front of me. The passenger window is down. A gentle-spirited man with long black hair peppered with gray strands falling well past his shoulders has one hand on the wheel. His eyes are dark and shining bright with life and deep calm wisdom, “Are you coming with me or are you going to just stand there?”
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