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The first signs of a canyon lay ahead of him, dropping below the level of the plain where red, bare rock formed the walls. It was wide, and small, scrubby trees dotted the landscape inside the gorge. He’d heard of this place. Hells Canyon one man told him, filled with Comanche. According to his friend, the walls were red with the blood of those the Comanche had murdered there.The winter was mild and Bain’s head throbbed in the light of the merciless sun of the Texas panhandle, as if a brass band marched inside his skull. The two-month-old wound had healed, but still, the pain persisted. He cursed the trooper who had cracked him on the back of his head. What a wicked work of butchery that day had held. Old Indian men, squaws, and children had been slaughtered in cold blood. Its author had been his friend, well, now ex-friend, George Armstrong Custer. And he’d done the one thing a commander should never do; he lost control of his men. Shoving the thoughts of the carnage from his mind,. Well I found out she actually lives close to where I work. She had told me at one time she was having car issues, I asked her what kind of car she drove and she told me. Well just the other day while on my way to work I see a car drive by my work, one like she drives. I went online later and asked her if she was driving by and she said it wasn’t her. I then told her, sure, I think you are stalking me. She fine just wait I will be in the parking lot of a hotel close to my work the next morning. The next morning as I am driving by the hotel I look over and see her car. I was like really nervous but figured hey what the hell could it hurt. I pulled in next to her and got out of the car. I walked over to her drivers door and she is looking so hot. She has on a little bit of make up, I loved the red color of her lip stick. I just wanted to kiss her right there but I was so nervous. I look down a little bit at her sexy tight top just clinging tight to her perfect size C breasts, I want to.
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