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When they returned the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he began to tell his story.

It's easy to get gung-ho about a new plan; in that first flush of motivation, you feel so determined that you can't imagine failing.

Here lived a girl who was in love with him; now the only reminder of her is a shred of faded ribbon, and her lake-cabin-a rotted ruin.

When the youth had slept his fill, he got up by the first light of morning, and wanted to put on the ass's skin, but it was not to be found.

She jerks her head to toss an errant lock of hair out of her eyes and fixes him with a stony glare.

"It's the color of your eyes today, " I sighed, surrendering, staring down at my hands as I fiddled with a piece of my hair.

Until the last held in hand just a wisp of the wind.

The next day the sun rose white-hot above the ridgeline, turning the Middle Fork into an undulating strand of emeralds.

When the meteor across the lonely sky, when the flower comes the last ray of fragrance, will you think of such a girl she had come.