Stick pulled the coffee pot off the fire and poured some of the boiling brew, then arranged his tired bones on the only flat rock in camp so he could enjoy the first cup. He spit out a couple of grounds and sucked in the morning air. His camp up Pike Creek draw was cool yet, but the sun had hauled itself up over the rimrock to the east and he could see heat waves already rippling across the desert floor. Stick grimaced thinking of the long ride up Wildhorse Gorge and took another sip.
© 2024 Eric Stromquist
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