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Well, as smooth as weather-beaten rock can get... next to a little slope covered with green moss and more long grass shoots slowly turning brown from the heat of the sun. I sat down on the hard, unforgiving surface, then carefully lay back and gazed up into the blue sky. The hawk was still circling far above, watching me perhaps. I was overcome by a warm rush of contentment. How good it felt to be there, relaxed, completely naked, my clothes a distant memory. I ran my hands over the granite on either side of me, feeling the angular ridges and cracks. When my fingers touched the smoothness of my hips they were surprised by the difference in texture. I let my palms slide up over my body until they met the swell of my breasts. How soft and smooth they were in comparison to the rough, hard rock! The contrast amazed and thrilled me!I smiled to find my nipples were more like the granite... stiff and firm, with their own little ripples and ridges. I touched them gently, then squeezed them,. I went back and lay down on the cot. I woke to darkness outside. I felt like there were large rodents inside my body, gnawing away. Even the thought of drinking water made me dizzy. I staggered down the street to the Corral. I had to stop every few doors. A cold wind had come up and I didn’t bring a coat. I felt like my body was shutting down, as if it had independently decided it didn’t want to live like this anymore. At that point I wasn’t going to argue with it. I made it down to the Corral again. Leaning against the poster of Gene Autry, trying to catch my breath. I could hear music, horns playing, softly in the distance. Was this it? Was this what it was like to die? The music came closer, I could now hear singing, a song heard years ago: Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war, With the cross of Jesus going on before. I could see them coming, a band playing music, dressed in the uniforms Annie and Bill had been wearing. There were trombones, trumpets, baritones and a.
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