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Rattlesnake is dominated by a backdrop of mountains. It's an island in a sea of sand. Another stop on an endless highway.
According to the road sign, the population is seven-hundred.
Less of a one-horse town and more of a three-legged mule.
From first glance, I notice a bar, general store, butcher's, post office, town hall and hardware store. There's a church steeple peeping over the rooftops and a few other places. Most of 'em up and down a short strip of a main street. Basically the highway, with slower speed limits.
Otherwise, the locals seem to live in small clutches of houses dotted around the outskirts of the town.
Exhausted and numb, I walk along the main street. I find a small doctor's surgery. The blinds are shut and the sign on the door says CLOSED: Doctor on Vacation.
I
