I’ll come find you.” Eric
offered his hand, shook firmly, and walked out of the barn. After touching each
headstone and bowing his head, he hoisted his pack and settled it on his back,
picked up his old .308, and moved toward the forest.
Horace put the journals in the front seat of his car
and turned to see Eric striding into the forest. He watched until he was no
longer visible, glanced again at the gravesite, and began to plan the museum as
he drove back to town. He had stories to tell ; many
stories to tell.
Eric turned around and watched the car leave the
ranch. He placed his rifle on the ground, took off the backpack, and again
looked at the graveyard. “One story ends, and another begins,” he whispered to
himself.
oH
The
End
----
[MLF1] ??