Tess stepped off the train in Billings, Montana on a dusty Saturday morning, freshly minted MFA in her hand, Karate black belt around her waist.
Strangers. Everywhere.
“How ‘bout I meet you for a drink tonight–seeing you’re new in town,” the taxi driver asked.
Only one way to become friends.
“Sure.”
The bar was dingy, her new friend late. A cowboy-hatted stranger sat down next to her and started talking. The driver came in and crowded her other side.
The next morning she got on the eastbound train, back to New York City.
Strangers knew their place there.
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Enjoy this? Consider Chasing the Tumbleweed, a short romantic suspense.
Strangers
Tess stepped off the train in Billings, Montana on a dusty Saturday morning, freshly minted MFA in her hand, Karate black belt around her waist.
Strangers. Everywhere.
“How ‘bout I meet you for a drink tonight–seeing you’re new in town,” the taxi driver asked.
Only one way to become friends.
“Sure.”
The bar was dingy, her new friend late. A cowboy-hatted stranger sat down next to her and started talking. The driver came in and crowded her other side.
The next morning she got on the eastbound train, back to New York City.
Strangers knew their place there.
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