Part 1 (1/2)
Looking For You All My Life.
Melody Carlson.
To Gabriel Douglas Carison
Love always,
Mom noDDUO
B.
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uring the first week of November, traffic through
town had dwindled to a thin trickle. Besides the
coming and going of the locals, there were only a
few late-season elk hunters cruising down Main Street on
their way back home, some with elk heads and large antler
racks displayed proudly on their hunting rigs (a habit a city
girl found slightly disturbing).
Maggie diverted her attention from the ”trophy” tied to
the hood of a dust-covered pickup parked along Main Street
by watching her breath come out in little white puffs that lin-
gered for a moment on the crisp midday air before they dis-
appeared. The novelty of such a simple thing as frost was not
lost on her as she walked toward Galloway's Deli. It was not
something she'd seen much of in southern California.
The atmosphere had suddenly changed in Pine Mountain.
A quiet hush wrapped itself around the streets of this little