IN GOOD COMPANY

Chicken Bone pieced this riverside camp together from whatever the current and the road left behind. The walls do not match, the beams show their age, and every room carries the marks of hard use. Still, the place sits comfortably beside the river, as though it grew there one board at a time.

There is room for work, music, a faithful dog, and the woman who stood beside him while he built it. Tools and household things share the same walls because life after the war does not leave much room for ceremony. Chicken Bone arranged it all with the order of an old job site, even when the materials came from a dozen different ruins.

The name fits better than any grand title could. A strong roof matters, but so do the people waiting beneath it when the day’s labor is done. Chicken Bone may build like a man preparing for trouble, yet this camp shows that he still knows the value of a good home and good company.