'Scene', Pt. 3

On that day, one marked incidentally by all our observation of the stallion's enormous erection, when Doug (or Ron or Rob -- his name is lost in the 100-degree sun) ignored the party and kept filling troughs with one abraded-leather glove on the 'hold-hand' and the other between his teeth to allow the free hand to spread feed -- on that day, after drinking far too much and allowing the alcohol to dehydrate me to alarming, hot-weather, levels, I envisioned an image which, when told, became the vow. . .

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