XYZT, 15–15


Cherokee: A Ride


They tramped briskly along the farm’s driveway. For kilometers in every direction, all that could be seen was flat, snow-blanketed farmland, an unwalled icebox. So these are the farms of America. Faint whiff of manure. How it permeated up through the crusted layers of white he wasn’t sure. Suddenly dropped into this cold place…escorted around by people I do not know…it is just what he said would happen, but this is…unfathomable