a cold mountain wind

the snow crunched under terry's deer skinned boots. "i don't know if i can make it much farther jimbo" terry said with a puff of steamed breathe. he was loosing allot of blood. the wolves would pick up on our scent soon, it was only a matter of time. "if i don't make it...." i cut terry off, "dammit your gonna be fine, doc bradley is gonna patch you up just fine." terry was almost as white as a sheet now, fighting for every breath. "not much further to the trading post, doc's probably got on a squirrel stew." i tried to sound unconcerned but the words came out jumbled and wrong. terry fell to his side and rolled over holding his stomach. "i ain't gonna make it jimbo" he gasped. "tell sue-ellen i never meant no harm." "dammit terry, you gonna tell her yourself!" but it was too late, he slipped away right there on that mountain. i reached into his hand and pulled out the blood soaked paper he had held soo tightly. i opened the note and read the words, "bill of sale: 1982 nissan sentra, needs work." godammit terry, i told you never to buy a used car from a blind mexican.

2 comments:

Perfect Virgo said...

Can't stop Superfly, my wife's "probably got on a squirrel stew." She's forgotten I'm vegetarian!

Anonymous said...

bravo hombre!