storm clouds hang in the air. it’s getting late now. there aren’t many riders left out there. most folks are already heading for their cars. and the rodeo folks are starting to pack up. still, charlie remains. damn leg’s hurting again. he slowly stands. his eyes follow the action in the arena. “team ropers”, he thinks. “they look awful good out here, but i wouldn’t bet any of of ‘em could do any real ranch roping.” memories parade through a steady stream of bright daylight in his mind. days. days gone by. and the nights too. charlie twists slightly in his standing position. leg’s stiffening up. he takes a last look into the arena with a critical eye before turning to leave. tomorrow he’ll be back at work fixing broken fences. and the rodeo will have moved on...
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