I left the office yesterday around lunchtime, so that Walter and I could get on the road to Denton for a friend's memorial service. That's not what made me go hmmn!?!.
As I drove north on Harvey Mitchell (which for non-locals in a by-pass-type highway, two-full lanes in each directions, center turn lane, and full width paved shoulders), I saw a twenty-something guy walking on the shoulder by himself headed my same direction.
He was turned out top to bottom in desert camo fatigues, less the lid, and had a full matching pack (probably ~40 lbs) strapped to his back. He stepped lightly, but purposefully, eyes set on the horizon In his right hand he held a standard (I'm guessing 8-10 lb.) sledgehammer, gripped like he was a golfer striding down the fairway with a nine iron.
At the time, I thought to myself hmm!?! And I still can't think of a story that explains it.
Your thoughts?
