Tom Week – Sodom Mountain

9/19/19 – Sodom Mountain

Seriously, we are at the Sodom Mountain Campground. Pat has yet to turn into a pillar of salt. That means a lot to me.

I tried climbing the mountain but only made it about half way up. Above that the trails were too steep and loose rocky for me.

Next stop Gomorrah Valley?

9/20/19 – Hopewell Junction

Hopewell Junction is not a town. It is a “hamlet” within the town of East Fishkill, which is of course, just east of Fishkill New York.

9/21/19 – Writing Day

Got a whole bunch of writing done today. Perfect day for a bike ride but no safe roads around.

Pat is making pumpkins.

Abigail complains that we aren’t feeding her enough but the vet says she’s a good weight.

I’ve been sitting in this chair for too long.

9/22/19 – Pennsylvania

We are in Stroudsburg Pennsylvania. No two people pronounce it the same. When you point that out they all say that they pronounce it correctly and the other people must be from New Jersey. New Jersey is two miles away.

The woman checking people in at the campground is extremely bored and makes jokes to pass the time. The old couple in front of me were not amused. She was so happy when I joked back.

9/23/19 – Bonking

Went for a long bike ride today. Too long. I had to change my route due to poor road conditions. This happened a couple times and added many miles to my trip. Oh yeah, 90 degrees. In addition the hills were again much larger than Google Maps suggested.

I finally got to the bike trail I was aiming for and it was wonderfully flat. For the first five miles. Then it was a nightmare of impossibly steep hills with horrible surface. The trail was dirt, covered by gravel, covered by moss, covered by rotting leaves.

When I got back to the paved road it leveled out a bit, but I was so worn out it took me over an hour to go the last five miles. Such fun.

9/24/19 – Rest Day

Took a day off to nap and do nothing.

PIX

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  Ice cream truck in a childless campground

• 

  Someone ignored the no grills on the wooden table rule

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  Tractor!!!

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  The haunted camper of Stroudsburg

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  Even in death this poor guy’s legs don’t work.

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100 Words – Pain

The torrential pain swept across her body. She did not scream. There were no tears. A slight tremor. The ghost of a wince. She sipped her tea and contemplated her cards. Her cardmates gossiped on, unaware.

Later, back in her room, she takes three of the gray pills her nephew sends her from Mexico. She drowns them down with the vodka her neighbor with the limp leaves in her milk box every Sunday Morning. She leaves money for him but he never takes it.

Nobody else knows what has become of their former mayor. Praying for death. Weeping for relief.

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100 Words – Neon Clock

She stood beneath the neon clock waiting for him. I knew it was a him. It’s always a him and that’s where they always wait.

Judging from her amazing looks I imagined that he would be her equal. She was elegant and angular. Maybe he would be the same. Or maybe he would be round in contrast. Kind of like me, but dressed better.

I never found out. He never came. At twenty past the hour she gave up and left. It wasn’t till she was gone that I thought maybe she was waiting for me. I need better clothes.

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