When are you leaving? they been asking me for months now. Oh, about a week, I've been saying for months. Last Saturday morning I sat having coffee at Mosswood Market when it finally became farewell.…
Posts published by “Spec MacQuayde”
“Kiss me,” she said. Fly and I both sat bolt upright and gazed perplexed into one another's eyes with the aid of the scant green light afforded by the digits on the dashboard. Since the…
The cabin was clearly occupied. Smoke snaked from the double-walled, galvanized, chimney pipe. A lamp burned, illuminating the solarium. The German Shepherd pup bounded like a deer and wagged his tail, revealing nuts that had…
"Jabbering away all night," my friend Crystal had said methamphetamine does. This would be my first and essentially last experience with the powerful stimulant. Fly and I were unintentional guests in the Kincaid kitchen, haphazard…
We were still effectively lost on the slopes of Hatchet Mountain, two pilgrims packing garbage bags stuffed with moist, freshly-harvested marijuana, probably trespassing with every step. A full day since harvest, our inventory was no…
Sunday morning there was a message on the answering machine from a neighboring rancher who said he'd found a dead goat in the middle of the pasture. Also several of his heifers had jumped fence…
There we were, the guy “Fly” and I literally dangling on a limb of this outstretched madrone trunk, gripping another branch for dear life with the small pack of dogs raising a ruckus at the…