My sister Beth and I grew up on a farm in Indiana. Living out in the country was pretty much a dull and restricted sort of life for teenagers. Since we had to ride the school bus, we had no opportunity to participate in extracurricular school activities—it was off to school in the morning and back home right school was out. This schedule cut down on our opportunities for dating, too, since it gave neither of us much chance to develop any kind of serious friendships or romantic relations with others our age.
That was until the day his GPS went on the blink while traveling through the prairie provinces of Canada. Poor Jack, or maybe I should say lucky Jack, found himself on a dirt road, miles from anywhere and out of gas. As the old joke predicted there was a farm house in the distance and he set out to walk. By the time he reached the farm it was getting dark.
Muffy tried to be quiet as she snuck into the barn. She was looking for her two cousins, Bobby and Beth. She had come to the farm to visit them for a month in the summer. It had been fine at first.
No breath of air moved in the oppressive heat. Everything shimmered in the haze. Now and again a swirl of dust would roll and eddy in a curious mini whirlwind motion, but it never seemed to reach you for even that choking dust would be most a most welcome relief from the oppressive heat. Warm and comfortable under the down, I stretched deeply, and felt my leg slide against yours, getting tickled by the dense, soft hair that covers them.