Letting Life Lead
Dust assaulted. Two horses in braided, bit-less bridles hung head to hoof. Riders pulled brims low, bandanas high, and duster collars straight.
“You’re barkin’ at knots.”
The other dug, found the panel, placed her hand upon the biolock and said, “Balls out.”
...in which I share all the writing. And you will love it, dammit.
Try. Try again.
musings of a shellback, back on land
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playing by my own rules
We take the heat 'cause we gotta eat.