Ann Mary Tempesta Sample
text:
_____My soul and sights aimed forward. After
an hour of driving my 1972 Mustang along straight paths, I turned left
at a fork following a swerve blending into a sluggish incline of cherry
colored gravel. Occasionally, the rear view mirror revealed horseback
riders--hundreds of them, all equipped with a variety of rustic weapons.
Road dust mildly clouded a view of their growing distance. All and all,
I had the advantage, more horsepower.
_____Where am I?
How can I still be stuck in a dream?
_____Mile after mile, I hunched over the
wheel like an aged zombie staring into nothingness. The roadways narrowed
and curved weaving gradually between jutting ridges of craggy shale. Yanking
a hard left on a sandy fork, I stood on the brakes squealing as the car
stopped. Before me sat a long granite trail climbing to the highest peak.
The sun sat lightly above a lavender cloud. At the road's apex, a donut-hole
of solid rock framed magenta sky. When I reached the top, I parked sideways
before the donut-hole, to keep from rolling down. Here we go.
_____My arms barely moved as my fingers
pried from the pasty steering wheel. Using my left knee, I kicked the driver's
door open. A slap of cold air nipped thousands of nerve sites. Rolling
my shoulders, I managed to straighten up from a hunch. Parched, starving,
lost, and stinky. Nagging pains joined into a patch of stale agony along
my chest and back. Life is forward. Making cagey fists, I flexed
achy fingers and staggered with wooden legs to peek at my travel wake.
For fifty-miles, I saw misty, stony ridges. Turning about, I walked like
a drugged chicken. My elbows flapped outward as my back arched. Plodding
to the donut-hole entrance, I swung my arms and clapped my hands to increase
blood circulation.
_____Muggers about?
_____"God
just wouldn't do that to me, right now."
NEXT
DAMSEL
IN THE ROUGH