Two Cars?
Maria parked on the outskirts of St. Rimou, in a side street, away from gossiping eyes. She took the GR221 up through the morning mist and pines and out onto the granite scattered scrub. It was a damp morning in the valleys, with a chill in the air. The end of summer, but not quite the beginning of winter. In the distance, though, through breaks in the drifting and…
