I'd picked three places off Interstate 80 between Wendover and Salt Lake City that I wanted to visit, but something called me to Montello.
Wiki listed it as having two bars and a gas-station/store with around 30 people.
I told how the collection of Russian fox tales was illustrated with wood-block prints and how the tale of the Ghost cat illustrations were done in a classical style with a calligraphic influence and depicted a Japan that was likely long gone. She got It, and clutching the books to her ample bosom told of an interesting house around the corner and down the street.
She said his name was Jerry and he used to open the house to the public but I could wander around and wouldn't get shot.
Wiki listed it as having two bars and a gas-station/store with around 30 people.
I had several books on the dashboard to donate and turned off at the sign that pointed toward the post office. A green soccer-mom van was coming toward me with the driver's window down; I flagged it down. I explained about the books and she said there wasn't a library but they'd just, after eight years, reopened the school. I started to hand the books out to her for perusal and she got out.
She was large, wearing a Sturgis t-shirt and with teethless gums was smoking a cigarette.
I told how the collection of Russian fox tales was illustrated with wood-block prints and how the tale of the Ghost cat illustrations were done in a classical style with a calligraphic influence and depicted a Japan that was likely long gone. She got It, and clutching the books to her ample bosom told of an interesting house around the corner and down the street.
She said his name was Jerry and he used to open the house to the public but I could wander around and wouldn't get shot.
I loudly called his name a few times but no one came forth.
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