The 23.50 Cowboy

I was just crossing the border with between Texas and Arkansas with the herd of sea cows and the old timer bobbed up. “Them’s sure is nice looking manatees, boy.” He looked at the pod with bright-eyed envy. I wasn’t worried. I doubted he had the dexterity to be any bother to me any. “Thanks’| I said. I watched the old timer siddle damply away. That was what we all had coming to us. A struggle to survive a lowly Sea-Cow Boy existence. Old age. Useless futile, decrepitude. A watery grave.

My, things sure had changed since the ice caps melted.

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