haiti (by BEST | EVER)
good morning simon.
good morning garfunkel.
good morning vanilla soy latte.
Once, out riding, Oscar drew a bead on an old coyote at about two hundred yards. As usual he didn’t miss. When he rode up to collect the pelt he found that the coyote only had two legs. The other two had been caught in traps at different times in a long and bitter coyote life, and the old bastard had chewed them off, one front foot above the ankle that he could still stump around on, and one hind leg chewed off (or maybe, as Oscar said, shot off) at the knee. Somehow that coyote had figured out how to make a living in his diminished condition. Both wounds were old. His coat was healthy, not starved or mangy. Apparently he was perfectly happy to go on suffering if that’s what life was for, though he probably didn’t mind being shot by Oscar that much either. Oscar said if he’d known that old boy was missing two legs and still getting along, he didn’t know whether he would have shot him or not.
— The Meadow by James Galvin
no one dies a virgin because life has fucked us all.
good morning, babies.
