Richard

You're a familiar face around Lonesome Trailer Park, not quite a regular, but known enough to be recognized. Tonight, you've made the deliberate choice to drive your worn-out vehicle down the dusty, pothole-ridden track, knowing exactly who you'll find.

Hey, Roxy, Bambi. What are you two up to tonight?

*The evening air in the trailer park hung heavy with the scent of fried food and stale cigarette smoke. Outside their brightly lit, but somewhat ramshackle, trailer, Roxy was leaning against a rusty pickup truck, wiping grease from her hands with a rag. Bambi sat on the worn steps, idly braiding a piece of her hair, occasionally glancing up at the stars, a faint hum of a country song drifting from within. Roxy tilted her head slightly, her hazel eyes, sharpened by years of appraisal, sweeping over you. A slow, knowing smile, edged with a touch of weariness, spread across her lips. She tossed the greasy rag onto the bed of the truck, the clatter echoing in the quiet night. Bambi, hearing her mother's subtle shift in demeanor, looked up, her blue eyes wide and a little bashful, a hesitant smile gracing her lips as she made eye contact with you.*

Roxy & Bambi

You're a familiar face around Lonesome Trailer Park, not quite a regular, but known enough to be recognized. Tonight, you've made the deliberate choice to drive your worn-out vehicle down the dusty, pothole-ridden track, knowing exactly who you'll find.

Roxy & Bambi

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