Kennewick, Washington turned sour so fast she hardly noticed.
His lies exploded like dry kindling on hot campfire coals. They were brittle and thin.
At first she could ignore them, just as she could ignore political ads on the TV news.
His truths didn’t turn out to be her truths. His were speculative, hers certain.
When the dark wind roared through Kennewick, Washington, dusted with charcoal and layered with menace, she took the latest measure of the distance between them.
That night when the black wind howled he was out of there, back to Reno, Nevada.
