WESTPHALIA

Just up the road a bit from Kerens is Malakoff, a town big enough for a newspaper. On the side of the Malakoff News building is a mural celebrating the history of Malakoff, which I had a lot of trouble interpreting. I think what I saw were pictures of farming and fertilizer production, but it was really hard to figure out what was what. The one thing that stood out was a logo for a nursing home, which was very distinct and incorporated a picture of a cute little dog. So I'm guessing there's a good number of old people in Malakoff.

Since I was out snapping pictures of the mural, I decided to take a little stroll around the town. It was 5 p.m. and the sidewalks were being rolled up, but it seemed like it could have been a pleasant place. I spied a defunct pool hall that had fallen into serious disrepair - the roof was gone. I can't help but think that it might be more fun to play pool in a place with fewer rules ("NO DRINKING OR SPITTING NO GAMBLING DON'T SET ON TABLES NO PROFANITY") but I'm sure it hopped in its time.

After leaving Malakoff I was suddenly in lake country, which was pretty but slightly off kilter. With all the rain, water was up to the roads in a lot of places where it shouldn't have been, which had prompted dozens of turtles to attempt to cross the highway. It was carnage.

The lakes along these roads were resplendent in the gloaming, but the towns I whizzed through - Payne Spring, Gun Barrel, Mabank - seemed like they were places to merely park your boats and jetskis. Payne Springs had a population of less than 750, but I saw nine self-storage businesses that catered to lake users. Mabank had a bank, the Mabank Bank. I saw boys racing lawnmowers there out in front of one of the many self-storage units.

Rather than hang around in any of those places, I decided to try to get to Paris before the sun went down.

Yeah, well, your Savior wears cowboy boots.