Yellow, not Blue.

The middle of nowhere. Two Guns, Arizona. This road leads off to the bridge over Diablo Canyon. It’s impassable in a normal car. And there’s not too much left when you get there. When the rail line was being laid across northern Arizona, Diablo Canyon was one of the biggies to conquer. The rail ran up to the edge and stopped. A town was built; whores and bars and gunfights moved in around the crews of workers who spent the next year building a bridge over that formidable canyon. And then it all went away, leaving a few bits of stone buildings and the remains of a well. Like a bad dream. Middle of nowhere, again.

Marked