No way of telling where they came from.
A bi-color carpet rolled out like a long luxurious…Blue Grass song.
Soon enough a cluster of curious cattle. Over took my steel steed. As the midday sun cracked my skin. I awaited…for their cumbersome judgment.
For what seemed like hours…The four legged Zen Masters stared down my bewilderment with discontent.
Eventually, a nod of approval from the ‘grunge’ gang. With that…I continued my ride. But not without a dusty revelation.
‘I know we will all meet again. Minus my pride. We will all meet again! On the other side.’