Saturday, July 12, 2014

There’s a place, down Independence Ks way, that isn’t what it really seems.

There’s signs and rumors, even yet all these years later, that the James gang rode this way and slept around down there, and maybe even buried treasure in the gulley’s and what not.

That’s what the signs speak of, and rumor has it. I don’t know. It is rather pretty, however. It makes one wonder, if one concerns themselves with such thing, just how is it  so many bad guys had the artistic eye to discover such beauty and places of wonder, round the world, as it seems.

Now I confess I have r climbed Look Out mountain, and have never seen what the James gang saw, nor even have a clue as to what they might have been looking for while  they were up there – having never had good guys looking for me with guns.

But driving about the vdalley below the moutain one gains the feeling of age, even after only a hundred years occupation or so. A couple of white houses trimmed in black and little fields separated by bits of old rock fence and rails and barbed wire. Nothing like the modern farm with hedge rows and cleared spaces.

One has a tendency to speed through the are, not entirely unjustified, that feeling, and at the same time  ones head swivels rapidly to remain on the road and stilll take in every thing possible, hoping not to wreck,  visualizing lying there bleeding out waiting for the help  on knows will not come.

At least soon.

Outlaws, you know.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey-

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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