The Traveler

Heading her way bearing gifts, the thought strikes of Lilly having devoured every chunk of savoring meat that has him letting go an internal laugh to such a ridiculous idea that leads to getting serious in thinking if she did, then so be it. It’s not like he hadn’t eaten today. Fact is, he had breakfast, and then lunch at that vegan café whose soup was delicious as was the homemade bread.

Concerned, and though understanding her having issues, doing what he can in giving Lilly a chance in making it though not just the approaching rainy days, but the cold months as well, taking over the moment is reaching the rock formation piled on the lip of the cement barrier. Knowing this is his stop, jumps off the road.

The scent of wood smoke acts as his guide and being noisy in his approach, yells out, “It’s me.”

Up on her feet and after seeing all that he has carried, she says, “That’s dead people’s stuff. Why did you bring it here?” She is not going to use any of it, registers like a brick to the face that has him relaxing his grip to where what carried, slips from his fingers. The last to go is what is slung around his shoulder and after hearing the clunk of the tackle box, what comes is a waste of time in doing what he can in giving a leg up when Izzo’s words strike a chord in him.