Bones

“Follow the bones, they always know.” Her guide laughed at his own joke as he carefully made his way along the dry desert ridge. It was dotted with white flags marking each bone found. They hung limply without a hint of wind to move them or provide any relief. “It’d be nice if they led to shade.”

There wasn’t a tree or rocky cropping for as far as she could see to provide any relief. She was thankful that her visit to this barren landscape was going to be short. She wrote notes about the flags, then went back to watching him work.

Despite the heat, the dinosaur hunter was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeve shirt. On top of his balding head was a well-worn cowboy hat. She supposed it made sense as it was dirty, potentially dangerous work. His clothes would protect from thorny bushes, sharp rocks, and the bright midday sun. She wished she’d dressed as smartly and hadn’t insisted that safari-wear would be perfect.

He handed her a flask. “Drink some water. You’ll never get your ‘For Dummies’ book written if you die out here and join the dinos.”

He pointed to a pile of white objects. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

“What?”

“Don’t you see it? There’s a handful of T-rex teeth.”

“Is that good?”

“Are you kidding? This could be the find of a lifetime.” He handed her a knife and brush. “Make yourself useful.”

And that’s how she became a bone-fied dinosaur hunter.