THE MOOSE JAW
By Mike Delany
The next week was spent in spurious bouts of shopping, packing and planning.
As an engineer, the construction of the cabin was to be the high point of my summer.
The following day, Saturday, Haywood suggested we get a start on the repairs to the cache.
Perhaps it was this loneliness that accounted for my occasional feeling that someone else was near.
On the 10th of July, the first wave of Chinook came up the creek.
The days grew shorter as autumn settled on the Moose Jaw country.
I told her it was Wednesday, Sept. 5th, and I was Gus O’Neill
I told him she was tall, close to six feet, slender and well sculpted.