Saturday, 11 July 2015

Orange Crush

As I trudged forward, the trees slowly became sparser and sparser until I found this small open field.

If you’d asked me earlier what I expected, had I not run thinking you were with the Sheriffs, a man squeezing orange juice into a bowl wouldn’t have rated a mention.

He glanced up at me as I approached, then looked at the sun.


“Hey…” I said, looking for a weapon, not seeing any.

“Want some?” he asked, after taking a gulp from the bowl.


I walked up and took a big gulp.

Some bounty hunters work with tranquillisers, alas.

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