Ezee

The young boy looked back at the river he had just crossed. The Colorado River was not red. It was muddy brown. It flowed slowly almost imperceptibly. If not for an occasional stick moving with the languid flow, the moribund river would have been a murky pond. He walked off the road towards some trees. The greenery along the river and the shade were inviting and sure to provide respite from the ever growing hot sun. He heard voices next to the cottonwood trees and approached cautiously. He saw a family sitting around a make shift camp. A woman was cooking eggs and when the smell reached him it reminded him that he hadn't eaten for two days. He stepped on a twig and the noise made the young girl at the camp turn. She studied him for a long time. Finally, she got up and without speaking, approached him and took him by the hand and brought him to the camp. "What do you got there, baby?" The mother looked at the young man and continued to stir the eggs.