May your canteen always be full of cold, clear water. This was the blessing bestowed upon Frankie by his new friend, as he headed off down the trail straddling the back of his jet-black burro. He had recently traded in his self-driving Tesla amphibious coupe, gave away most of his belongings and put the rest in storage. Things were getting out of hand and he was getting out before it was too late. This burro named Johnny, his new canteen and a pack full of camping gear was all he had now. This was going to be his life moving forward, although he did maintain about five grand in his bank account and he carried his ATM card with him hidden in the secret compartment of his backpack. Just in case, he thought. Just in case.
The War on Christmas had gotten to be too much, too real, too hard on the kids. Candy canes would catch fire and explode, Egg nog would burn like gasoline and melt the refrigerator. Pine and spruce trees brought into the house and decorated with lights would be off gassing a chloride based chemical concoction that gave everyone in the house sever diarrhea. Who was behind these nasty acts? Frankie and his family were initially aghast and frightened, along with everyone else, posting their outrage on their various social media sites and tweeting out redundant, meaningless questions. But, as the flames spread out over the land, and the casualties mounted up, Frankie thought- well, screw it, this shit is played out anyway. i’m done.
That’s when he drove to Santa Fe, sold his car and found Johnny. He had sent the kids to his mom’s in Ohio and promised to write once he found some paper and a pencil, and an envelope and a stamp and a post office. Once he had all these things, he would write them, he had promised.
His new friend, the scruffy guy with the scruffy dog at the Mobil station, had gifted him a trail map and a box of Skittles. A small yet bloodthirsty crowd of paranoid and emotionally vulnerable folks gathered in the parking lot, chanting “Fan the flames! Fan the flames!”. The scruffy guy and his dog deftly stayed out of their way and showed Frankie where to fill his canteen up at the spring, and then swiftly bid them goodbye. The smell of burning candy canes filled the air and the sky was dark with smoke. Despite those disconcerting environmental factors, Frankie and Johnny ambled down the trail, full of contentment. The north star came into view beside a vibrant crescent moon in the darkening sky.
THE MOSSY BOG 