Tumbleweeds. Prairie dogs. What a shitty trip. He was sure his breath stunk, his swollen feet ached. Would his mother even be at the bus station. Or would he have to walk the mile or more to her apartment. He didn't really want to see her.
"I'm Alice," the woman tried again.
"Kurt," he said self-consciously, a hand across his mouth.
She smiled. "Yer kinda young to be traveling alone, aren't you?"arrival
I go outside and see the culprit: this hairball cluster of what used to be a robin, one wing torqued stiff like a bent toilet brush, its tiny bird feet gone or sucked so far into its gut as to be invisible. I think about picking it up and wrapping it in newsprint and burying it back where we keep the garbage and recycle cans but I don’t do any of that. Instead I go inside and pour more coffee and then the next bird crashes into the window, only I’m watching clear-eyed as this one kisses it hard. That’s the problem with having windows that are too clean: it’s as if nothing’s there, no barrier or separation, while in the end it’s the very thing which does you in.picture window
This was high-end accommodation. He had had no idea. He had paid a lot of money but that was to be expected, given that the company had bought exclusive rights to the mountain. He had been confused by all the information. He'd thought you had to stay two nights - the night before the climb, and the night mid-climb.
“And the other guest has arrived, sir?”
“Your fellow guest, sir? Your companion?”
“What do you mean? It's only me.”mountain lodges