IN SEARCH OF SILENCE: WORDS ESCAPE ME
WORDS ESCAPE FROM ME: IN SEARCH OF SILENCE, braided story years 2017 and 1805. May 6, 2017, afternoon, Searching for Nathan. OFFICE CLOSED read the sign on the MOTEL door, a one story building of a dozen or so doors, plopped on a hill in the middle of North Dakota, at the edge of a town called Riverdale. “I’m looking for Nathan.” “I can help you Ma’am.” A biker with arms covered with weather worn tattoos leaned away from a dusty Harley. It, pockmarked with rust spots and metal, matched his face and its dark patches, some menacing red, others pale. He sauntered towards Alma and his pack of similarly adorned cheroot smoking men turned away. “That’s ok, just need to know where he is.” The man pointed towards a building labeled LODGE. “Down there working on the new wall.” The gravel covered road and hill lead to an open basement: no one visible, just machinery sounds, engines running. “Uh, ok.” Alma turned away, not so fast as to tweak ...