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(f) "How many times had I driven that grid road. More than I care to remember. Sean McGibbon had just got his licence the day before. It was easy in those days and so few other cars on the mostly gravel roads. The hoar frost was thick. You know what happened. He skidded off this curve. Up the slope and into the field. The force of the upward movement buried part of the metal steering wheel in his forehead. Not enough to kill him. No one found him for a few days. The tracks of the tires in the long winter grass had been hard to see because of the wind. He lived on for about ten years. Not much to him since he lost his memory and his ability to think clearly. Sean's parents kept the ranch going and him with it. He could help sometimes but got frustrated when he couldn't do fairly easy chores like throwing hay for the bulls." from "How much time to break the land." By Lisa Banford. p. 7. (Eastend library) (f) |
image © D. Wall
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