by Slim Randles
“Someday,” said Steve, our resident tall, walrus-moustachioed cowboy, “I’m going to mess around and mix up some paint and when it’s just the right blend, I’ll sell it to people who love beauty and nature to paint the walls of their favorite room in the house.”
“What?” said Dud. “I don’t understand.
“Look at that sunset, Dudley,” Steve said. “See how the orange and the red blend into the blue … up higher there where the old day sky still is. And the black threads of the tree branches run through it.”
They were out in the parking lot of the Mule Barn coffee shop, which doubles for the headquarters of the World Dilemma Think Tank during coffee hours, to say nothing of the Supreme Court of Dang Near Everything, which has the same membership. The guys basked in the afterglow of a nice day before heading home.
“Steve,” said Doc, “I had no idea you were artistic minded. Is this something new?”
“Naw. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted paint that color. You know what I’d do with it? I’d paint the wall behind the little telephone stand so that every time I spoke to someone on the phone, I’d be in a great mood.”
“You don’t have a telephone stand, Steve.” Dud said. “All you have is that cell phone in your pocket.”
“Picky, picky. Okay, then I’ll paint my jacket that color, so every time I grab the cell phone …”
Herb had been awfully quiet … for him, anyway.
“So you would blend orange and red and yellow and blue and black?”
“Only if I could get it to look like that,” Steve said.
One of the side benefits of being a cowboy is being able to dream regardless of facts..
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