KICK- INSTALLMENT #1

Kick put his truck into neutral as it glided off the end of the dirt road into an overgrown clearing. The tall grass and weeds hissed along the sides of the old Dodge Ram as it rolled to a stop under a pine tree. A cloud of dust followed it, floating lazily into the clearing. For a moment, before the engine died, the faint sound of music emanated from the truck. Then the engine stopped and all was quiet. The door opened with a creak, and Kick, dressed as he always did in gray sweatpants and a tired old plaid shirt, stepped down and walked around to the back of the truck where he retrieved a tackle box and fishing pole. He started towards the woods before turning around to get some beer he had forgotten in the cab. These he crammed into his tackle box before making his way into the woods.

Kick followed a trail, which in former days had been a continuation of the road, as it made its way down to the lake. Small saplings, no thicker than your wrist, flanked him on either side as he walked. The narrow path, which was maintained by snowmobilers in the winter, was not used much otherwise, and Kick felt comfortable enough in his solitude to smoke a joint as he walked along.

...to be continued.