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A Truck Driver’s Lament: Cross-Country Blues
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As the trucks continued west toward Cumberland, Maryland, the chickens jumped with a start, and in unison began clucking nervously as Mousy Tongue, a stow-way, ran through the row of cages in which the chickens were housed with Mousetrap, another stow-away, in pursuit, creating a ruckus. What was worse, the mouse or the cat? The hens did not know.
It was all so new and unfamiliar. The animals strained to see the passing countryside through the slats in the trailer as hills rolled by in sheets of sunlight and then turned under in towers of shadows and the dark hills disappeared and reappeared as the truck continued into dusk. Inside the trailer, the animals were frightened. They thought this was it. This was the end.
Al
