Rumination, tarnation, damnation. Imagination. Probably spelled most of those words wrong. Doesn’t change what I felt. What I feel.
What I’ve experienced.
I can’t not ruminate. I always feel the need to consider what what I’ve read. Tarnation has nothing to do with tarnish. No cloud, no darkness, no lack of polish.
Damnation? Dammit this is ending. Not over. Just ending. For now? I choose damnation as my oath, my swear word to deal with not getting another chapter next Monday. Damnation!
Imagination. Imagination? Stimulated. What did men made like me do to find love in the American west before it was America? Maybe the lucky ones found their Bearpaw.
I’m going to leave a respectful request that someone lists the best order to read the old west of @Headstall because I’ll be waiting here for what happens next or, more accurately, happened next.
#Reid