THE LOST MINE
September 6, 2014
The wind rushes at you, bending the sagebrush, throwing dust. Eyes to the ground, gripping your hat with your left hand, you watch your boots shuffle forward. You steer for the ravine waiting between the low hills at the far side of the flatland. If the map is right, and you know it is, the lost mine is as good as found. You reach the ravine, and the boulder is there, exactly as it should be. You moisten your lips, squeeze the crowbar in your right hand, and advance to the task. Strain and struggle to find the leverage. Finally, up and over, the boulder rolls aside, revealing the hole. Down you go, eager. You strike a match. There she is. You die.
