Based on a conversation over at Grim's I am reminded of a joke. I should tell more, really.
Fred Fernald came home to find that his wife had taken one of the trucks and run off with the hired man. And it was the Ford, the one with the new clutch.
That story about the wife running off reminded me of the best several opening paragraphs of any novel, Charles Portis' "The Dog of the South" Portis also wrote "True Grit"
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That story about the wife running off reminded me of the best several opening paragraphs of any novel, Charles Portis' "The Dog of the South" Portis also wrote "True Grit"
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