Don Bacho & Bedina Daagdo ... May 2026

Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his lip, and pointed down at the river. "Look on the bright side, Bacho. You wanted it in the valley. It’s in the valley. And we didn’t even have to walk the rest of the way."

And so, they walked back up the mountain, leaving the "dropped" history behind, already planning how to tell the village they had fought off a pack of wolves to save the empty air. DON BACHO & BEDINA daagdo ...

Bacho, realizing the wardrobe was now a projectile, dove into the mud. The wardrobe didn't just fall; it soared. It hit the rocks below with a sound like a thunderclap, exploding into a thousand splinters of oak and antique dust. Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his

Bedina arrived, leaning lazily against his donkey, Gogi. "Bacho, that wardrobe is larger than my house. Why not just burn it and tell people it was stolen by a ghost?" "It’s an heirloom," Bacho insisted. "We carry it." It’s in the valley

Bacho looked down at the wreckage, then at his muddy hands, and finally at Bedina. He started to laugh—a deep, booming mountain laugh. "You’re right, Bedina. It was getting heavy anyway."

Bedina looked at the tumbling wooden mountain, looked at his blackberries, and then looked at the steep 200-foot drop to the river below. He calmly stepped aside. "Bacho!" Bedina yelled. (Drop it/Let it go!)