Inside Joke

Clemens’ head brushed the shotgun. But her eyes were locked on the old man. He reached out to her. Boney hands. Yearning.

“Don’t go…” he said.

“I’m not little Jessie… I’m real…” Clemens said. She wobbled to her feet.

Clemens shut the front door behind her. She could still hear the old man whimpering. The cool desert air and the winking moon.

The moon was amused. A little inside joke.

She hurried away. Climbing over the fence. Her car wasn’t there. She looked one more time at the house of mannequins, then ran down the dusty desert road.

199 miles from California.