Literature
FFM Day - 16, 2022
The boys draw their fair share of strangers’ stares. Bandanas over their mouths like desperados. They walk into town without horses, but shit, maybe their steeds are lying in the sun, gasping their last, chomping at hot bits, lathered in sweat. These wouldn’t be the first cowboys to ride their horses to death. No one gives them much trouble as they wash the dust from their throats and warm their laps with loose women. But these boys aren’t in any hurry. They get to talking, and interested ears in the saloon pick out the details. Dead horses, yes, but not rode to it. Sheriff and his men slit two mare’s throats to keep the boys from running. It’s found out later, that the sheriff is floating face down in a cold mountain lake, his manhood shoved down his throat. Whispers grow loud. They leave, quickly, with fresh horses. It’s a bitter brew that goes down hard, cold morning after colder night. “I’m gonna freeze muh cock off out here,” Kit complains. Lee shoots a wry smile.