The Fork in the Road

Things got so bad on the farm that I run off. I figured they wouldn’t waste much time looking for me, but it would be good to get as far away as I could.

I lit out to Frenchman’s Bend. The trains always slow down before crossing the bridge, so I knew I could hop a freight easy enough.

When I got to Jefferson City, my belly was growling. I realized I didn’t have a red cent. I spied a diner and went around the back. I could maybe sweep the floors for food. If not, I had my knife.

 

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Whatever.