a purple squirrel (a weekend freewrite)

A continuation of the Stetson free write…

Hale fought back the grips of disappointment when he spied the so-called ‘sanctuary city.’ Nothing more than a sprawl of tents and make shift structures set back in the shadow of a rock face. He didn’t know what he expected to find.

Something about sanctuary had not only an implication of cleanliness and orderliness but permanence. It was that stubborn bastard hope that led Hale to imagine some esoteric stone castle in the middle of the desert at the end of the world. What he got was a bunch of shabby tents who would be vulnerable to an even half-hearted gust of wind.

He pulled the found Stetson hat low to shade his eyes as his partner drove the truck, rumbling, through the shadowed shanty town. They arrived at what was most obviously the leader’s dwelling. A squat building hastily put together out of wood and stone.

The door’s hinges squawked a protest when Hale shoved it open. His boots made scraping sounds on the dusty floor underneath as he stopped before a worn out stuffed purple squirrel toy. He bent and picked it up. It’s once fluffed tail was scraggly and there was a now greying tint of filth that dampened the original bright purple. One leg of the toy had been torn off and a makeshift patch job closed up the wound so no more stuffing would be lost.

It was strange to be holding something so soft when all he’d felt was dust and metal for so long. He wondered about the child that loved the toy.

“You do well for yourself.” He said, sarcastically, to the woman sitting cross legged on the floor pouring over a spread of maps.

“It’s good to see you again, Hale.” She said.

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This weekend free write is a continuation to a story I started [by a free writing happy accident] with the Stetson entry. The prompts are brought to us by @mariannewest.

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