By The Campfire

• Who can we blame today? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
• Sail Cat Road continues now. #
• Love is hard to see in a person so flawed, but that’s exactly what he saw in his daughter’s eyes, still rimmed in the purple of her beating. #
• He nodded and she took it for what it was worth. As screwed up as they were, this was her family. None of them had anyone else. #
• Gus had known little about love beyond Bren. Jimmy never tried to understand it. Jolene has mistaken it for everything from sex to drugs. #
• Calmness settled between the cypress trees just long enough to let their minds wander about things beyond their present predicament. #
• The sound peeled the calm from ripples behind the boat. The impact was metal on flesh, exploding bone and the copper smell of blood. #
• From behind a bent tree, Ritko dropped the scope from his eye. He only needed to kill one of them. And the one he wanted was down. #
• There was no screaming, no splashing, no panic. Dying is seldom as dramatic is it in the movies. Mostly it is just quiet and final. #
• The boat drifted to the right toward the far bank and nosed into the brush. Ritko walked away in the direction he had come. #
• The low clouds hung above, observing the violence with no visible change. Clouds see their share of inhumanity, making no judgments. #
• This ends Sail cat Road. Thank you for following. All chapters are posted at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com #
• is changing the stories to include you into them. Stay tuned. Comedy? Mystery? Thriller? Your choice. #
• Civets coffee? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
• Civets coffee? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
• For a man like Dill, the first step into a bar is the worst. His life had run out six months ago. He just had not been paying attention. #
• She could tell he was past his expiration date – the broken veins in his face, the parchment skin, a stare that saw nothing and everything. #
• The smell of the road hung on him deeper than his clothes. Dust from 300 miles back tamped from his boots. Confusion wrinkled his eyes. #
• There had been no rain for a week. The ground sucked up any liquid to quench its thirst. Twelve miles north, blood soaked dried roots. #
• Dill had not hesitated to end the man’s life. It was the least he could do for an old friend. Now he ordered rum with a single cube. #
• It reminded him of a bar in Jamaica where he’s loved another man’s wife and left more blood on the ground. The liquid dulled his thoughts. #
• Most people hate their job, but suffer it for the rent. Living is hard to do, however, when killing is your business. #
• If you look for meaning in stories, you’ll have trouble in life. It does not offer meaning. It just happens. That’s what happened to Dill. #
• If you care to follow, you may find some meaning, but it is not intentional. Ride the words like a highway and enjoy the scenery. #
• Boiled Peanuts in NYC: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
• The beauty of irony on the cover of the NYTimes today: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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