The Traveler

Walking by the once functioning farm, eggs and a slab of ham smothered in applesauce roll in and out of his head. Faced with dealing with his body fed two rats and very little greens over the span of three days, being constantly after the rise and fall of the road is beginning to take its toll. Water he has, but that is not enough. Something to tear apart with his teeth is what he craves, and with this tormenting his mind, wild is her hair matching ice-cold eyes set above a proud chin turned his way as her shoulders are back with arms crossed. Thick in the thigh, and though not as tall, he keeps to walking along in diminishing the gap.  In between the time of contact, she and her mule remain unmoving, and thinking of how the world turns these days, close enough now, he offers a universal hello.