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Cowboys

Alone on the trail, pushing daylight, we two pull into a small arroyo to bed down. Nigh unto exhaustion, hot food transcends tired old bones and the smell of sweat, but not enough for either one of us to volunteer. The fire, more for company than for heat soon plays its lonely desert song into night air. We take out our stash and roll an old fashioned lumpy cigarette, twisting the end just so, to hold it together till lit. Soon we’re hanging on cliff’s edge between the real and unreal world of guided imagination. The dreams of holy men in ancient tribes calling shape shifters into mental matrimony, waiting for the merge of brain and vision. Beating ceremonial drums and asking for grace. They soon dig into my old rusty past that hangs some where on the fringe of past and present. I’m riding fiery waves in the belly of the beast. Back draft--- watch for back draft I thought. Back draft !! That point where temperature raises combustion to the point of a cyclonic draft of fire. The beast feeds on oxygen, oxygen eaten so fast it sucks the surrounding area clean of all air. A lucky person caught thus would be incinerated. One unlucky would slowly roast while suffocating. Awaking abruptly, I forgot the dream. Just a dream. The wind had settled, in fact there was deathly quiet. Too quiet, but nothing was giving information. So we saddled, and headed into Big Timber, the last leg. Big Timber—a plethora of ash, alpine, and firs of all kinds. Only the solid wall of granite ahead, separated them and the helicopter waiting to take them back to base camp. He felt a harsh feeling of being stalked but didn’t know why. Besides, he still was apprehensive about the deathly stillness. As they wound into the narrows he tasted the distinct smell. Fire, it was very close. Back draft he thought. The warning !! Thank God for the tiny clearing before the final opening. He could see the funnel reaching tree tops, deafening all. Moving behind the outcrop again, they started to retreat. Suddenly the silence was almost as deafening as the wind. Moving again from behind the rocks, they were astounded. The tornado had sucked all the oxygen away from the fire. It was out!!!! © 22 Dec 2010 For Tirzah

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 3/4/2011 7:19:00 AM
Awesome write, Charles. Really liked the lines about the Native American shape shifters. It brings something very special and unique to your entry. Surely, this is a difficult life for most and yet I have always envied the cowboy lifestyle. Wishing you success in Tirzah's contest! Love, Caroolyn
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Date: 3/1/2011 5:33:00 PM
wowser like 3 stories in 1..wow!!! so cool Charles. Light & Love
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Date: 2/27/2011 11:34:00 AM
nice!!!! 7
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Date: 2/26/2011 6:29:00 PM
Wow and wonderful write Charles.. u captured every phase of the cowboy and cowboy life luv.. good luck in the contest ...
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Book: Shattered Sighs