On The Road Again


  The ride home is a quiet one. Faith isn’t speaking, instead focusing intently on the infinite stretch of road before us, lit up by our headlights fifty feet at a time. I’m not a veteran of post-hunt parties, but this certainly doesn’t fit my expectations.

  We left Iowa a while back, travelling east into Illinois and familiar turf.

  “Faith-“ I begin, but she cuts me off immediately with a single hand in the air. I shut up accordingly. Someone who doesn’t know Faith as well as I do might think she’s re-evaluating her entire outlook on life. But I do know Faith as well as I do. She’s never this quiet unless she’s mad. She is definitely mad – Furious, even – and it’s making me nervous.

  “You okay?” I ask, ignoring her command in the hopes that compassion will win her over. There’s a steely silence between the two of us whilst she considers her answer, or considers whether to even answer or not. I’ve long since accepted the fact that she isn’t going to reply when she finally does.

  “Of course not. I just got bested by a bunch of hillbillies.”

  “We” I reply solemnly.


  “We just got bested by a bunch of hillbillies. Both of us.”

  “Right. Whatever. Because you were such a great help”

  I know she’s in a bad mood, but it still stings.

  “Thanks for making my first time so special.”


~ by Joseph Blame on December 2, 2010.

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