The food is so over-spiced as to be tasteless, and he yearns for the simple meals of the farm on which he was raised. “I’m getting too old for this…” he said. Everyone got what they wanted in the end: fast rides, quiet skies, safe, cheap vehicles. “I’ll be trimming the lime trees and tending the mint patch and the cucumber frames all afternoon.
Harris could be running the old right-of-way. “It never was. ”But he does not feel comforted at this moment. It’s too late, anyway.
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