Rick trundles down the mountain road, bouncing in the cab. Five kilometres on there’s been an accident. A car with a nun and 2 kids in it and a Republican shop truck collided, tools scattered all over the narrow road, soldier, nun, 2 kids standing in the rain.
The only clear part of the road is blocked by a goat. The goat stands there, and stands there. Looks directly at Rick and doesn’t say a word. Turns away. Looks at interesting rock.
Rick reaches for the pistol he had put back into his satchel. Gets out of the truck. Walks towards the goat. Goat looks at him. Looks back at Interesting Rock.
Rick puts the gun against the white hair of the goat’s head and pulls the trigger.
Rick glances eye contact with the children as he walks back to truck. Not a word said.
Rick climbs back into truck. Into gear, drives forward, truck bumps noisily as it runs over the still-warm goat.
Down the road Rick turns left towards Madrid to go get Exupery, and the fuck outta dodge.
