![]() ![]() "This is Mimi Shapiro reporting from Nowhere!" She swiveled the wine-red JVC HDD around to take in the countryside: the empty dirt road stretching out before her, the overgrown borders and broken-down fences, the unkempt and empty fields, the desolate forest beyond them. Gripping the wheel tightly in her left hand, she picked up her digital camcorder from the passenger seat and held it at arm's length, aimed at her face. She wore a red T-back sports bra and black low-rise capris, as if the car were an accessory. The little car was red with a black top, and Mimi had red shades and black hair. And the Mini's horn beeped twice in reply. ![]() Cooper, we are now officially not in Kansas," she said. Mimi took a deep breath and patted the leather-upholstered steering wheel. Undaunted, the dog stayed on her tail - stayed with her for a hundred yards or so - then finally fell behind, his territory no longer in danger. Then she thrust the stick shift forward and left the paved road, sending out a rooster tail of gravel. She threw the Mini Cooper into reverse again and slewed to the left, almost hitting the ugly mutt. The animal bounced up and down at her door, brindle and with far too many yellow teeth. A gargantuan dog was tearing toward her from the dilapidated house on the corner. ![]() She checked the map on the seat beside her, backed up, and squinted through her own dust at the signpost.Ī deep-throated bark seized her attention. MIMI MISSED HER TURN and screeched to a stop. ![]()
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