The dirt below him was red with blood and he stared at it so not to meet eyes with the cowboys who circled him like Satan’s men.
And the cowboys dug their spurs into the unfed bellies of their beasts to make them snort and jerk so that he would cower more.
And the hard sun smiled hot and cruel upon him like no sun at all but some brother of a sun with hate in his blood and some rich lust for evil.
Not the same sun in his country, not the motherly sun that brought life to the land and had the Rockies glow gold and warm in the dawn.
A different sun hot over different horses and different men. Men not like he.
Different men.
Bob Jones • Sep 30, 2013 at 9:54 pm
Damn. Nice job.