"A late start today would be best." He finally realized that adventures are the most pleasant when the worst of the heat is over. The rolling hills were shadowed and obscured, yet sufficiently illuminated as he slowly winched his way up to the peak.
The fear of the Mojave Green rattlesnake returned. Skittering across rocks and stones, the climb continued, past rusted trash and tarnished remnants of people's dreams. Tiny birds fluttered along the trail. Insects strolled calmly along the ground. The typical hot blast of the day was replaced by a slight breeze from the hills. The last hill appeared, and he cranked up to the top, panting slightly as he does occasionally, spurred on by the adrenaline and decreasing light. The descent was quick and smooth, exhilarating. The noise of the wind was punctuated by the total silence when airborne as he cleared natural jumps on the trail.
Returning to town was a return to "civilization". Well, as civilized as Walmart can be. The dust from a little white truck settled slowly, the day's wind finally dead. As he rounded the bend, the unpleasant yet inviting musty smell of value-priced '80s hotel rooms wafted into his nostrils. For the first time, he noticed the dim and dirty streetlights coming on and quiet noises that the sun-fearing desert dwellers start to make once the sun sinks behind the mountains just beyond the edge of town. It's curious, he though, how the people who live where the sun always shines seem to never venture out of their houses in to the light, except to work and to feed. Perhaps the glowing allure of the Screen has claimed them again tonight? Their tiny dogs barked angrily, as if they were defending their homes against the brutish, pillaging hordes.
He coasted into the driveway.
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