“Aah, that’d be Skillsaw in the rockin’ chair,” Sleeping replies. “Haven’t heard from him since mile marker nine. ‘Figure he’s reading the mail, or checking for pinholes in the back of his eyelids.” He chuckles.
Walleye hits the key, “Yah, got shutter problems back here myself.”
“Woah, heads up, big gator in the granny lane!” Bee yells.
Sound like a foreign language to you. It connects those who ride alone.