He came to town on a Harley-Davidson. He said his name was Wolf. He wore fringed leather and in the dark braid that hung down his back was a feather. He said he was Shoshone, from Idaho land. He met the Armenian Woman and moved in with her. She said when he slept, he muttered indistinguishable words. “Shoshone words,” he told her. The Armenian Woman loved him, and when she and Wolf walked through town, eyes followed him with admiration. He taught a workshop to cancer patients at the city hospital. For two days, he taught them how to make … Continue reading Harley-Davidson Pony