The old Ford gave one final cough, then shuddered and died.
“Oh that’s just great,” Jerry thought, “Ten miles out in the Arizona desert at 2:00 a.m. Like somebody’s gonna stop out here and lend a hand.
Three quarters of a mile down the road, about 100 yards off to the right side; another traveler had stalled his vehicle, and like Jerry was disembarking to search for help.
Yes it had been, she thought as she looked at the vase of flowers. The tears came to her eyes as she tried to remember the last time he had brought flowers home. She couldn’t. It had been a long time between bouquets.
One day in early summer the pig disappeared. Although they searched the countryside for him, the Johnsons couldn’t find him. They figured they had seen the last of the little piglet…