Manifest Destiny
Not wanting to wake Carmella, Dillon sits up quietly and removes himself from bed. He locates his boots and pants, and carries them into the living room, where he dresses. He straps on his gun and grabs the day pack he often takes on trips up the canyon, tosses in a handful of protein bars, a couple of apples, and his old A harmonica. He fills his water bottle and puts it in the pouch on the side of the bag. Outside, the crickets chirp, and the bullfrogs sing their song of the night. They’re calling him. He grabs his wide-brimmed hat, which hangs by the door, and he enters the outdoors, softly closing the screen behind himself. For a moment, the crickets and frogs fall silent. The sky is clear, and the enormous stars seem too heavy for it to hold. The big gibbous moon, bloated like a corpse…