OVER THE HILL
The town never changed. Each and every morning Ted opened the door to his store at 6 o’clock sharp and swept the dust from the boardwalk fronting his business out onto the dust of the street. He nodded the same greeting, a nod of his head, a minute later each and every morning to Mabel passing by on the way to her milliner’s shop, The Clever Feather. Billy passed by on his burro, turning the same grin to Ted at the same time each and every day.
Later, after selling a ball of twine to Marlene, as he had done each and every day at the same time, Ted, for the first time ever, gazed out the window at the hill looming high over the shoulder of the hotel across the street. I wonder what’s over that hill, he thought. He left the store, destroying custom and habit. He passed around the hotel and climbed the hill. What did he see when he got to the top? He saw an exact reverse image of his town below. He stood face to face with himself.
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