Carter bit off a piece—it was like shoe leather, but the taste was phenomenal! He closed his eyes and went back to that day. Ridin’ up, smoke in the air, and Kelly Wood comin’ out the house. The screen door slammin’ and that blonde hair just hittin’ the sun.
“Well, hey, Carter! What do ya know?”
They wandered, talkin’ about work, about women, about nothin’. They shared a pipe, the herb that Kelly Wood grew on the south side of the barn. Wind chimes flanked his little garden—bells and glass and flattened forks that made music when the wind-spirits sauntered through, blessing all that grew, sacred.