The Trailer Park The Fourth YearChapter 50
It wasn't exactly raining. Raining implies that water is coming from point A and going to point B. The water was here. It was just hanging. I guess you'd call it misting. Add to that a cold wind swooping down from the North, and it was a miserable morning to be standing on the highway waiting for a bus. And I felt good. Fifty-eight days from now, I'd stand here for the last time. After that, I was mobile. I looked around the familiar group. Traci was the only one who seemed in a good...