
The Sound of a Cattle Guard
I had my eyes closed when my friend Roger drove over it. Wasn't asleep, exactly. My head rested against the passenger window, and the pickup was rocking me somewhere close to sleep, when the tires hit iron. Clatter-clatter. The sound came through the floorboards and up my boots, and I was ten years old again, riding beside Grandpa toward a weathered barn…

















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