I gazed upon her chest heaving in the flickering dim light of the motel. All I got from her was her name was Mary and she was a run away from out of Mississippi.

She had made it a very good distance before she came upon my car and asked for a ride. Little did she know that would be the very last time she hitch-hiked. As she began to stir from her slumber I tried not to think of the memories that had led me here to this little town in Louisiana and led me to Mary. The things that attracted me ...