by Barry Marks

Created on: August 16, 2008

As I walked through the grounds I stopped once or twice to kick at the dirt. It had only been a few weeks but the change of seasons had hit hard. Green grass was gone, replaced by brown hard earth and brittle dead leaves. The trees were near-dead skeletons and the stones loomed cold and gray.
Black, I thought. This isn't supposed to show the dirt. But the length of the black trench coat was spotted along the bottom hem with dots and splatters of brown sod and grayish-black mud.

I eventually made it back to the car, right where I left it by the main road. It was also splattered with dirt. "Hmm."
There was no one around this time of day. The sun was setting. It was cold and getting dark and this wasn't the friendliest place at night. Not that it was any better during the day, but at least you wouldn't accidentally trip over a dead branch or a broken stone.
Won't be back for awhile. Damn.
I took off the trench coat and tossed it in the back. Coats that long just get in the way when you drive. So I started the car, didn't turn on the radio, and drove out. The road was also dirt, and unmarked and unlit. Figures.
Eventually I made it out (after a wrong turn or two) and drove onto the county road toward town. Now I turned on the radio. The news was on, just missed sports and traffic was next so I changed the station to some music I couldn't identify and finally just turned the radio off again. "Shit."
The road lights were few and far between but the road was straight and empty. A truck loaded with logs rumbled past going the other way and I had to pull over to allow a van full of old folks to speed ahead of me. Why are they in such a hurry?
The glow ahead grew bright and the town loomed out of the darkness. The mountains rise behind the town and cast a shadow so approached from this direction, even at twilight, the town usually seemed to be in darkness, so the lights were bright and usually on at even at midday.
Well, I wasn't in a hurry and entered town from the west, passed by one of the town's only two stoplights, and parked in the diner's tiny lot. The senior citizen van was already parked three spots over, close to the door. I got out. It was chilly but I left the trench coat in the car. I didn't want to carry that dirt into the restaurant. I had some on my shoes but I did my best to brush it off.
Millie was behind the counter. She waved. I waved back and sat in another section, across the diner and away from the old folks. The other waitress brought me coffee,

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