Dream Island
I park under the cottonwood in the back, so that no one will nose around in my trailer. Two slots away is a Willys jeep, rusted, its axles sitting on blocks. I'm not worried about being robbed. I just don't like hauling around a burned trailer, knowing everyone is asking the one question I...
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| Format: | Text |
| Language: | unknown |
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BYU ScholarsArchive
1987
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| Online Access: | https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/inscape/vol7/iss3/2 https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/context/inscape/article/2460/viewcontent/01_Dream_Island.pdf |
| Summary: | I park under the cottonwood in the back, so that no one will nose around in my trailer. Two slots away is a Willys jeep, rusted, its axles sitting on blocks. I'm not worried about being robbed. I just don't like hauling around a burned trailer, knowing everyone is asking the one question I can't answer. I untie a bandana hanging from the mirror and wipe the smoke from my face . Then I change into a clean T-shirt and head for the pay phone to call Dizzie, my insurance agent . His real name is Elmo Sack, but ever since I saw a blonde in a push-em-up dress stick her tongue in his ear during happy hour I could never call him Elmo. |
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