“Winterkill” by Richard Ford

 

My mother had her boyfriend then, an old wildcatter named Harley Reeves. And Harley and I did not get along, though I don't blame him for that. He had been laid off himself down near Gillette, Wyoming, where the boom was finished. And he was just doing what I was doing and had arrived there first. Everyone was laid off then. It was not a good time in that part of Montana, nor was it going to be. The two of them were just giving it a final try, both of them in their sixties, strangers together in the little house my father had left her.

Another in the 100 Best roster, the second from Richard Ford.

Both are undoubtedly well-written tales of a hardscrabble down-trodden modern West. In both stories, plot is not key, rather it is humanity. Men and women trapped in circumstances and getting though each day by existing rather than by living.

Of the two well-written tales I prefer “Great Falls” for its unusual confrontation.

That is not to say this is a poor second, simply that the despair to elliptical ending appealed a bit less to this reader.

Still, craft is craft, and you have craft here.