"After months of miserable weather Rezberry is finally enjoying summer. The Sun gently warms my golden skin and the soft breezes that wind through jack pine stands keep me cool and refreshed by the scent they carry. Wild flowers and pretty weeds delight my eyes, and the smell of freshly cut grass is delicious. Life is good. But wait! What is that new odor? All of a sudden I feel an electric vibration over my entire body. I smell sweet grass combined with deep, rich, loamy earth and Red Stripe.

OMG! Moosie! My love is on his way back home! OMG! He is for sure coming up this time; I can feel it with my supernatural Indian sense! In my mind's eye he is riding a massive Appaloosa stallion; its mane and tail are decorated with feathers, ribbons and beads. Under the sun Moosie's hair has the sheen of a raven's wing and is longer than ever, parted in the middle, of course. He is not wearing a shirt either, but for him that's okay, preferable in fact. I don't know why some Indian guys don't like wearing shirts but they should seriously consider it. No one wants to look at faded old tats on a basketball belly covered in sparse grey hairs.

Now let me continue… Moosie is carrying an intricately beaded staff in his left hand that documents his bravery in battle and his many daring acts of love. Vividly colored pictographs are carved in it so Moosie can keep track of his astonishing volume of progeny and what days the mother's get paid. He is all dressed up for the reunion wearing patent leather, black fringed leggings with a formal black velvet breech cloth. Heavy silver bands studded with priceless turquoise surround his muscular upper arms and a flashy silver belt is slung low on his strong hips."

Get the Story:
Ricey Wild: It ain't easy being indian (The Circle News 7/8)