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He couldstudy? But he laughed at the prospect. He sat on the couch for what feltlike an age, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the clock."Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in!" he whispered over andover.He looked up at the clock to see that only five minutes had passed. Hejumped up and went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of orangejuice and drank. The feeling of the ice cold drink sliding down histhroat was a fantastic feeling. He then sat at the kitchen island,picked up his phone and started playing with it.As he sat in silence for a few moments, the urge to dress was becomingmuch too strong for him to handle. It built up inside the pit of hisstomach like a fiery beast, penetrating his veins, fuelling him withpleasurable thoughts and emotions. He had to do it. He could not wastethe chance. Days like these were rare and hard to come by. He had to doit.As he stared at the clock ticking slowly over to quarter past nine, hisfeelings of guilt and fear quickly flipped over. I figured it was mostly because of my size. I had been on the trail for three days when I hit Kansas City. Although it was sunny and warm now, I had just traveled through two days of a cool rain. It was mid afternoon as I rode into town. I watched as the children ran around but mostly ran away as I rode up the main street. I watched as the women hurried them inside their houses and closed the doors. The people on the street gave me wide berth. Women scurried into businesses and the men rested their hands on their pistols. It was almost like I was a gunfighter. I had killed my share of men, but only in my battles in ’64 and ’65. Runt felt tired so I set my eyes to look for the livery stable. I could usually tell when he had enough. His stride slowed and his back began to sway from side to side. Even this sturdy horse tired of me on his back. I had to admit that I too was tired and could use something besides the jerky I had bought in St. Louis. I found the stables and tied Runt to.
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