Calibre

Epilogue

In the dusty roads of Montana, a man named Wilson was hitching, hadn’t seen a vehicle for hours. Then here came a pick-up and stopped. The door opened and a guy with a Limey accent said:

‘Hop in.’

Wilson did, noticed a hounddog at the guy’s feet and Hank Williams on the tapedeck. They drove off and Wilson, who didn’t like Brits, didn’t bother to say thanks for the ride. The guy had a paperback on the dash, but Wilson couldn’t see the title.

The guy smiled, asked:

‘Don’t you have any manners?’