Madman on the Loose, I Could Die Today
On a sunny bucolic vacation day, The Bam, bam bambambam of an automatic weapon splintered the birdsong and rustle of the breeze through the treetops. “Wait! Were those real gunshots? Was it someone target practicing? Should I be worried?” we sat on the deck in the sunshine, pondering. “It is a bit countryish with huge lots in this little seaside enclave of vacation and retiree homes. People could target practice here, I guess. And yet…”
In the twenty years we had been coming to that cabin for a women’s retreat week, we had never heard anything like this. After all, it is Cleone, a tiny community where the grocery store, post office, and gas pump are rolled into one, where the one restaurant (with consistently awesome Mexican food) opens whenever the owners feel inclined to cook or do business, where the community’s…
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