K.A. Rupp

Hope

I rummage through my rut sack knowing there is nothing of value to trade for food. Just a performance for the haggard woman behind the bar. The yearlong walk from Kansas City, Kansas to Grand Junction, Colorado exhausted what little we had months ago. “Tomorrow we will eat once we are on the boat. Tonight, I just need to get out of the frigid wind for a moment,” I mentally assure myself. The tavern’s bar offered such brief respite. I should have let Hope come with me. Yet, guilt does not prick my conscience.