Settling in doesn’t take long when your worldly possessions are in one pack. When Terah saw his new house was numbered 77 he had to wonder—had there ever been that many buildings here? The numbering scheme at Dickinsheet was idiosyncratic. Of course, he knew little about the place. He gathered that it was named after the unfortunately named founder, but he was curious about the history. Moby would be the man to answer his questions. He made his way back to the little man’s house. Here in the middle of winter, with no roads to be plowed and outdoor work uncomfortable, the community was in simple survival mode. January was like that. Moby seemed glad for the visit. “Come in, Cal, was it?” “Thanks, yes.” “If you don’t mind my saying, Cal, you look like a professor.” He’d known some pretty shabby academics in his day, but this made him laugh. “I used to teach,” he admitted. “Something about your face. I can ...
Blog of a struggling writer.