>>6054863Alright, here goes..
Finally, the time has arrived, I placed my mare on the foot of Brimestone, she was steaming, smoking and generally heat was bursting out of her every opening. I decided it was time to give her a well needed rest, and since I had already had arrived at my goal I found it redundant to ride her around in circles for a few hours like I usually do. Although, I couldn't properly decide whether or not to do it, I know she usually likes those extra miles stepping around in the desert sand galloping hard while swallowing her own sweat while reminding herself of that time she was a young human female, riding around in the sand swallowed by the magic of time and danced with the nudists. But this isn't the time to talk about the stories of the mare, she has lived a full life and this time some rest is what she most of all desires, after all she is boiling from within from all that heat. The sun was gazing as I dragged my legs behind me, rolling towards the broken record store of Mr McBride, he was whaling in the distance, I could hear his fingers breaking uneven bottles of records, he kept the records in record sized bottles to cool them from the gazing sun. He was a man of his word but the store was still far away, I figure a mile from here (from Brimestone) where I placed my mare, I would have to drag the feet above and over the sand, I had to drag the feet with me. A motion where I first threw my severed legs in front of my body (the center of gravity being my left ankle) then slowly mustering enough power in me to take my calloused hands and drag the sand, moving the earth to my liking in order to proceed through the hot desert sun...
