The Lies We Told
“I WAS TRYING TO make conversation with Tully as I sat on the concrete stoop, waiting for Simmee. She and I were going to pick berries. I’d been trapped at Last Run Shelter for nearly a week, and the one thing I’d learned was that neither of my hosts was lazy. Right now, Tully was lighting the charcoal in the smoker. If he wasn’t hunting or fishing or cleaning and cooking his catch, he was cutting brush back from the house, repairing the chicken coop, burning and burying garbage, or hammering sh...ingles on the roof. I had the feeling Simmee did her fair share of home maintenance when she wasn’t as big as the house itself. I could have sworn she’d doubled in size since I’d been there, and every day she seemed a little more tired, a little more winded. But she kept on going. “Lady Alice says better to keep movin’,” she told me. And so she did.
“Well,” Tully said as he added some wood to the smoker, “depends on the season and where you’re fishin’. If I had my boat, I could get to the river and I could get us some bigger fish.MoreLess
“Well,” Tully said as he added some wood to the smoker, “depends on the season and where you’re fishin’. If I had my boat, I could get to the river and I could get us some bigger fish.MoreLess
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