Her stringy yellow long hair rose and fell like the surge of a angry sea stricken by a violent storm. Her little legs flexed and tightened as she stomped her feet down with wrath seemingly like a mad god shaking the ground each time distant thunder exploded in the sky.Her deep blue eyes were narrowed like the cold steel slits of a gun slot on a rolling tank. The .38 revolver stuck out of her waist, its shape melted into her form casting a shadow like that of a old time gunslinger traversing the barren landscape of the dying day as dusk struck at its final light and threw out hte stars from behind the world.
She was thinking about earlier in the park. She was looking for Travis and stopped in the park first
to be cont…
Travis M Smith
DOC #529433
