Where I write a little fiction, join some challenges, and have a little fun!
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
The horses nickered softly outside the ring of meager firelight. "Said they's headed for California." Ustes said, spitting tobacco juice into the fire,"'Too late...' says I, 'winter's comin'!'" "Who was they?" I asked. "I think they called themselves the Donner Party."