Horseshoes

Sitting in the old bowling alley chairs that line the horseshoe pit, enjoying a cocktail as the sun turns the tips of the sagebrush on fire.
Crazylegs is almost as tall as I am now. Her competitive spirit is strong this evening, and challenges us to a wicked game of horseshoes.
I add these sweet memories to the countdown, and we let the horseshoes fly, waiting for the sound of metal clinking us to another score.
She pulls out a victory from a close match, I savor her warm smile to keep with me forever.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?