And hungry . . . stranded . . . we’ll die. This thought blared in Kristy’s head during the endless stretch of road thorough the bare west Texas desert. Finally driving past the 'Welcome to Marfa' sign, she released a sigh of relief. “Are we there yet, Mommy?” Cody’s high-pitched voice pulsed with energy. “We sure are.” Kristy glanced in the rearview mirror at her six-year-old son. Framed by two dimples, the corners of his rosy mouth turned up into a bright smile. His brown eyes snapped with merriment and dark curls fell across his forehead and his plump cheeks as he banged his plastic sword against the car seat. Cody couldn’t have been happier and she wanted to keep it that way. As a golden oldies station played Bennie and the Jets, she turned onto South Dean Street. “This is Marfa. We’ll see the lights soon.” She glanced at the fuel gauge. After a six-hour drive from San Antonio, it pointed near empty. “We made it.” “How do those lights come on?” Cody squeaked from the back seat.
What do You think about The Ghost Lights Of Marfa?
