Another Mopar Off My Bucket List - Barracuda Fastback
Now I was beginning to question whether or not things would be looking brighter if I had become more of a father and less of a Dad. No one knew where we were. Heck, I wasn' t sure where we were. The house didn't look like much. It wasn't a shack but it probably could have used a fresh coat of paint 30 years earlier. We drove past the skeletal remains of a half dozen cars as we entered the driveway. Hopefully that wasn't all that remained of the last six people he'd offered assistance to.
It was eerily silent. The pickup he had been driving was parked alongside of a large galvanized tin building. He must be home. We could see two doors on the house. Neither one resembled a front door. After getting no response to our knock at the first one we walked further away from the Chevelle to knock on the second. You can't help but remain conscious of where you are in relationship to your possible means of escape when you're hearing banjo music in your head.
