She rode into town on a dusty old mountain bike.
Barry Rosenberg is responsible for no earth-shattering achievements, nor any remarkable upgrading to the quality of the environment, atmosphere or state of human suffering. The last third of his life has definitely been more enjoyable, however, and every now and again makes a little sense.
All in fiction
She hoisted the heavy pack’s strap onto her right shoulder and slowly jogged to where the Holden sat idling. Approaching on the left, she bent low and peeked in the window. There was only the driver, an older male, sixties, white hair, a craggy, leathery, pleasant face. Immediately, she felt safe.