Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Meanwhile, out in cattle country...

WRANGLERS – worn threadbare at the butt pocket and frayed about the back of the cuffs. Justins – mud or crap caked in the welt where the sole attached to the upper. Dusty chambray – partly tucked in and deeply stained at the armpits.

The rider cantered into the saloon, searched for a chair, found only a stool, took a second look around, then climbed atop, leaning on an elbow – longing for a more comfortable repose after this day.

Requesting a 16-year-old Lagavulin, which presently arrived “neat,” he reflected on the fourteen hours since daybreak, and wished this place favored jazz.

© 2009
Church of the Open Road Press

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