The San Juan Mountains thrust heavenward, snowcapped despite the uncertain warmth of March, clustered below a fiery sunset. In the waning light, the rocky peaks had darkened from their usual blue to nearly a purple tone. On the prairie below, a lone rider atop a silver horse galloped toward the massed rock formations of the foothills. Under his breath he muttered one prayer after another to a God he no longer respected, begging for time… more time… Please, God, let me be in time!
Please, God, let me be in time!He crested the first hill at a dangerous speed, his horse’s iron shoes clattering and slipping on the loose gravel. Mercury snorted in protest, and despite his hurry the rider patted his mount’s neck and reined in, slowing the pace. I can’t do a lick of good if I kill myself and my
