Smoky Corners 6-V: JC Salinger

Whoever heard of Smoky Corners, Montana? You can’t even find it on a map, unless you are looking for it. It’s perfect…

I needed a place serene, someplace to get over… Well, get over everything. My wife, Sophie, had been shot in front of me by her lover. She had obviously been cheating on me. I couldn’t write anymore. My publisher was begging me for another book; I was empty. I don’t know what drew me to an old road atlas. Google seemed to have taken over the map, literally. I remember driving through the northern half of the US in my youth. I was trying to find myself. Jack Clay. Well, that was who I was when I started out. Funny, that’s who I’m trying to find again. So, Jack Clay, welcome to Smoky Corners, Montana.

The man, who appeared to be about 55 years of age with silver coloured mid-shoulder length hair, wearing a medium brown lightweight woollen suit with vest and a hideous bright orange tie that made it look like he was about to burst into flame, sat in his usual chair in front of the roaring fire at the back of the small but cozy bar in the Midwest college town that he had been frequenting for almost six years now.