Gopher: A Short Story

He stood by the post office for hours trying to attract the attention of every pickup that pulled into the lumberyard, but he had no luck at all. He was making his way back to America when he noticed that someone was on the shoulder of the road up ahead. It was Delaney that was off on the side of the road and Candido froze. As he was thinking about the accident all over again he heard Delaney shout “You

As Logan and I sat at the intersection between Arrowhead Road and Midway, we waited for a text as the cars flashed past us. That was where we sat in the heated truck, waiting for a girl to give us the go ahead to come pick her up. We were jamming out to “Just What I Needed” by the Cars.

That night Christopher just got off a double shift at the police station. Before he went back to his apartment, he went by a dinner to get him some coffee and something to eat. When he went back to his police car, he heard the message for the kidnapping of the the kids. He responded and said that he was be looking out for the RV.

It takes a lot to rip apart a town. It takes a lot to ravage a community, particularly one as tightly-knit as Ridgway, Pennsylvania. Nestled snugly at the southeastern edge of Allegheny National Forest, Ridgway’s population has dipped to just below four thousand in recent years, though in its 191 years of settlement, it’s never once been called home by more than roughly six thousand people at once. Its proximity to the forest attracts huntsmen and hikers alike, but unless one were actively looking for the town—the square mileage of which comes in at just over two and a half miles, total—it would be remarkably easy for Ridgway to not make a blip on someone’s radar at all. It’s small, out of the way, and most of all, quiet—a recipe for insignificance.

Before Billy and Ruff left, Billy realized that it might take hours to walk to Wolf Hollow, so they walked to a gas station first. As they were walking to the gas station, a man pulled over to the side of the road and said.“Where are you two guys going this early in the morning?

The driver of the tow truck responded to Highway 96 about five miles south of Happy Camp after two stranded

Robert and the remaining African American troops lay waiting anxiously for reinforcements to arrive in the darkness behind a large mound of sand. The air reeked of blood, and gunpowder. Only an occasional breeze from the ocean brought a douse of fresh air. Silhouettes of their fallen comrades in the night could be seen sometimes whenever a cannon was fired an lit the sky for a moment. The ominous fate of death was like a fog surrounding the battle at Fort Wagner.

The story starts with the grandmother trying to manipulate her son into changing the destination of the family's road trip. She attempts to use the newspaper article about the Misfit to persuade her son that the destination she has in mind would be much safer for the everyone. This failed attempt sets the stage for the rest of the adventure, by enlightening the readers to

I have spent much of my childhood growing up in a small town in the Lowcountry region of South Carolina. This town, Garnett, is the physical embodiment of the phrase “the country.” Winding, unpaved dirt roads carved deep into the earth as if they were forged at the beginning of Earth’s creation. There are lush forests with towering pine trees and spruce trees, riddling the ground beneath them with pinecones and pine needles. The only buildings there is a post office, a mini mart, and an AME church. Every fall crisped evening, towards Thanksgiving, ended with wild turkeys weaving through traffic in the hopes of reaching the safety of the forests before the hunters’ dogs catch wind of their scent.

The car's wheels caress the highway lovingly. I forget the rumble of the cars behind for a moment, instead focusing on the insignificant touching of the wheels and ground. My sister sat at the wheel seemingly waiting for some kind of sign, waiting for me. She spoke, “Are you excited about moving back to Meetleburg?” As if, I am leaving behind all that I have worked for in the past four-teen years! I stayed silent to the dismay of my sister.

By late Saturday afternoon, the roadways in Flat Holler have endured four days of intense rain and another torrential rainstorm is threatening the town. The ominous gray clouds overhead might daunt the townspeople, but not Clemmie Sue, who is hell bent on reaching the home of her dear friend, Estelle Louise Button, before they rip a seam. Her petite foot, therefore, is heavy on the accelerator of her rusty, worn out Chevy pickup, kept mobile with a roll of duct tape, a large bottle of Elmer’s glue and a shout out to God when needed. When she turns onto Millers Way a narrow two-lane country road, on which Estelle Louise’s home is located, instead of reducing her speed she increases, because she knows the road as well as her favorite song, the Star Spangle Banner.

Knowing she wouldn’t answer still he said, “Do you remember me telling you a local contractor built several tract homes east of our house, near Sandy Gap? Well, there are only a few families left the others sold their homes. Something about the screams and lights on Putney Mountain but the people in town didn’t believe them, said it was buyer’s remorse. I never bothered getting acquainted with any of them and I don’t know. Now I’m alone except for Claude, and he’s getting old, I might not have him too much longer. Guess I can’t blame anyone for my shortage of friends.”

Driving through an abandoned desert in Nevada, Eric Salvatore and his family were frustrated of the long 6 hour non stop drive to their camping site in their small motorhome. Finally stopping at a gas station, Eric and his family leaped with joy as they could finally stretch their legs from the long drive. While Eric filled up his tank, the rest of his family were buying a few things to continue their drive. Charles, the owner of the gas station, gave Eric some new directions so Eric and his family could get to their camp site. “ Hey Eric if you continue on the main road and turn left on the first side road, you will get to your destination faster. Consider it a shortcut,” shouted Charles.

“Ca ding” the oven bell went off beth said “Jeffrey lunch is ready” Jeffery walked down the squeaky stairs into the kitchen. beth grabbed the oven mitts and pulled potatoes and green beans out, Jeffery said: “thank you, Beth, for this amazing feast”. Before they started to eat they had looked for Sparky their dog around their property. They found their answer the gate was open they both immediately knew that he must have run away.jeffery said “get in the car were going on a road trip”, he rushed inside and grabbed the car key he then tossed them to beth and she caught it, she put them in the hole and they had begun their journey. The car was going a solid 50 or 55 when they saw a man he was about 7 feet tall with brown ungroomed hair and very

The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the